


Mystic Shadows

by melanoms



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Women, Christine Palmer Deserves Better, Drinking, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotionally Repressed, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Heavy Angst, Idiots in Love, Insecure Stephen Strange, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Stephen Strange, Reader-Insert, Slow Burn, Soul Bond, Unrequited Love, and why he's such a narcissist, don't try to fix him, every villain thinks he’s a hero, understanding stephen strange, why do you have to be so clueless stephen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:47:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 27,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22988848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melanoms/pseuds/melanoms
Summary: You take a generous offer to work at Metro-General as the new head trauma surgeon. Sure, you and Stephen Strange were best friends during your medical residency. This should be easy, right?Unbeknownst to you, Fate has different plans. You and Stephen end up in a car accident together. By no mistake, you each choose a separate path to pursue the mystic arts. Yet, everything is not as it seems.
Relationships: Stephen Strange/Reader
Comments: 10
Kudos: 158





	1. The Medical Witch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cross posted on Tumblr [@melanoms](http://melanoms.tumblr.com). I'm not a medical professional. Everything is for creative purposes.

When you got the job offer to work at Metro-General, you weren’t sure if you would take it. 

As always, your head and your heart were conflicted. You left your life in New York behind years ago. Honestly, you never imagined going back. The very thought of returning to Manhattan made your heart leap and stomach drop simultaneously.

_Could you really do it?_

Really, the offer was more than generous. It came with a substantial salary, excellent benefits, teaching opportunities...

...and Stephen.

_No, it’s been years._

You couldn’t let him - the mere thought of him - make decisions for you. You escaped his spell when you moved to Los Angeles. He couldn’t continue to call the shots in your life.

Yet, when you hung up the phone to accept the offer from the chief of surgery, you couldn’t help but wonder if your head or your heart made the decision to move across the country.

Back to your old stomping grounds.

Back to him.

It didn’t take long for you to find an apartment, move, and settle back into the city. The bustling streets of Manhattan felt like a whisper from your past. It was a living dream.

On your first day at Metro-General, the chief of surgery gave you a tour of the hospital. She told you how grateful she was to have you there. She was especially excited to report that some of the surgeons were eager to watch your trauma nerve repair technique firsthand.

_Yes, this would be good for you. You made the right decision. Right?_

After your tour with the chief of surgery, she left you at the staff locker room so you could settle in before starting your day. You walked around the room imagining the conversations that happened here. You heard the gossiping and laughter. You felt the pain of terrible loss and tragedy. Soon, you would fill this room with your own imprint. 

_Years from now, would they feel your presence too?_

You started assembling a few items in your locker. As you carefully placed a few crystals and a worn-out tarot card of the Magician in the back corner, you heard a hauntingly familiar voice from behind you.

“So the rumors are true. The medical witch is here at Metro-General.”

You let out a soft chuckle under your breath as you smiled. It’s been years since anyone, since _he_ , called you that.

“And since when were you one to listen to rumors, Dr. Stephen Strange?” you asked as you closed the door to your locker. You slowly turned around to face him. The corners of his mouth upturned into a satisfied grin. 

_Oh, those dazzling eyes. That arrogant smile. You missed him. Oh, how you missed him._

No.

You couldn’t do this. Not again. You’re different now. You’ve grown. You can’t waste away wishing for a future that never existed in the first place. You won’t.

“I kept tabs on you. I still have no earthly idea why you chose trauma surgery. But you clearly made your mark,” Stephen said; referring to the surgical technique that wielded your name. 

He was never going to let you live that down. For years, Stephen questioned your career path. He thought you should pursue something more prestigious like neurosurgery or cardiothoracic surgery. But the adrenaline, pressure, and fast pace of trauma surgery was the only place your heart belonged.

The only _other_ place.

_No. You were done with longing. Pining was a ghost of the past._

“Not all of us have the patience to continually wait for something worth our time. You know your arrogance only fuels bad stereotypes about surgeons. Some of us are actually -”

“Here to help people and not just our egos,” Stephen patiently finished for you. 

You laughed softly and nervously glanced down at the floor. He heard you say that too many times to count. How you loved to tease him for his arrogance. How he surprised you because he let you.

Being around him was so easy. _Too easy_. You had to be careful.

He continued, “Of course, I would only expect impressive work from the only person who could keep up with me during our residency.”

“How is it that every time you ‘compliment’ me, you always manage to also compliment yourself,” you laughed with a playful eye roll. So typical of him. “But, truthfully, I’ve followed you too. You’ve become quite prolific,” you offered him.

“Oh? Is that so?” he eagerly asked with a raised eyebrow and tilt of his head.

“Don’t flatter yourself. Sometimes, you’re just inescapable, Stephen Strange,” you said with a sly smile. You started to walk out of the locker room. But before leaving, you placed a hand on his shoulder. 

“It’s a great burden on us all,” you laughed.

Stephen smiled to himself as he listened to the sound of your laughter growing dimmer from down the hall. 

Yes, he missed you too.

Your first few months at Metro-General went by in a blur. You only had a few opportunities to teach your nerve repair technique for trauma injuries. 

The first time was when a drunk idiot tried to see if he was strong enough to be a super soldier. He asked his friends to hit him with their car to prove he could stop it. 

Unfortunately for him, he did not possess the strength (nor heart) of Captain America and ended up on your table. You managed to save the mobility in his left foot that got a special beating from his friend’s Prius.

The next time, you salvaged the hand of a teenager who got her hand slammed in a door. You were relieved when you confirmed that she would maintain her dexterity. But you were even _more_ relieved when social services confirmed there was no abuse involved.

Due to the dramatically different nature of your practices, you didn’t see Stephen all too often at the hospital. Which you found to be both a relief and disappointment. 

In fact, you spent more time with Dr. Christine Palmer since you were always in the ER. You heard rumors of his on-again, off-again relationship with her. Although you tried to dismiss the gossip, every whisper of the two made your heart beat the question you asked yourself too many times before.

_Why not me? Why not me? Why not me?_

One day, you were filling out paperwork in the lounge when a coffee gently entered your peripheral vision. You glanced up from your papers to see its owner was Stephen.

“Still taking it with four extra shots?” you asked before returning your attention back to your paperwork.

“Yes, but this one isn’t for me,” he said. “Besides, you can blame my abhorrent taste in coffee on yourself.”

You set your papers aside in surprise and looked at him with curiosity. You asked in disbelief, “Has hell frozen over or did Stephen Strange just buy me coffee?”

He smirked at your familiar sass. “If you don’t take it, then yes, I will finish it myself,” he said. “After all the times you contributed to my caffeine addiction, I figure it doesn’t hurt for me to return the favor.”

You slowly reached out to accept his offering. But before you could place your hands around your caffeinated salvation he withdrew it and held up a finger.

“Once.”

You snatched the drink from his hand and laughed. “I wouldn’t be so ignorant as to get accustomed to your generosity, Stephen,” you teased. You took a sip then closed your eyes with a satisfied smile. 

“I’m speaking at a Neurological Society dinner tonight. Will you come with me?” he asked.

You almost spat out your second sip. You looked at him with an equal mixture of surprise and confusion painted on your face. “What about Christine?” you asked.

Stephen awkwardly looked down then said, “There’s nothing about her.” 

Before he could express any more discomfort, he looked you directly in the eye. Your friend’s overconfidence quickly buried any regret he felt. 

“I’d _like_ you to come with me,” Stephen finished.

You weren’t sure what was hiding under the murky waters of his mask. You used to be fluent in Strange facial undertones. But nowadays, you didn’t know anything about him or his personal life. 

Secretly excited (and terrified) to spend time with him, you nodded in agreement. 

“I’d like that too,” you whispered.

“Great, I’ll get you at 7 tonight,” he confirmed before heading out of the lounge.

\---

You stared at your closet; unsure of what to wear for the evening. Of course, you wanted to look nice. But you didn’t want to be over the top. It’s not like this was a date.

And honestly, you knew to leave the flashy extravagance up to Stephen.

You firmly closed your eyes in frustration. _How could this man make you feel like a 25-year-old resident all over again? This is just ridiculous._

But eventually, you decided on your usual attire for events like these. This wasn’t your first time attending society dinners or charity galas. Although it might be the first time you attended as some else’s guest.

When Stephen picked you up, you mercilessly teased him for his excessive choice in vehicles. Especially for the cramped streets of New York City. Was he _that_ desperate for attention?

_Yes, yes he was._

He wanted to compliment you on your appearance. But thought better about it. He didn’t want to make it seem like this was a date. However, that didn’t stop him from noticing how beautifully your hair frames your face and how your earrings perfectly dangle to adorn your neckline. 

He opened the door for you. As you gracefully slid into the seat, you could almost feel his hand ghost over the small of your back. Fortunately for you, he didn’t notice how you held your breath upon near physical contact.

When Stephen returned to the driver’s seat, he tore through the city with a whir of the engine.

“Oh my gosh, Stephen. Your driving hasn’t changed a bit,” you barely squeaked out. After getting over the initial shock of his recklessness, you continued, “Actually, no. It’s even worse because you’re not driving that beat up beer can anymore.”

“If I remember correctly - which as you know, I always do - you _still_ made me drive everywhere,” he quipped.

“I’m a powerful woman, Stephen Strange. But I could never be so powerful as to ‘make’ you do anything. No one in the known Universe possesses that kind of magic,” you laughed. “Besides, it made it easier for you to take off whenever your lady of the evening called for you.”

The moment that sentence left your lips, you regretted it. Were you really going to bring this up again? But Stephen continued without missing a beat.

“You make me sound like such a whore,” he snickered.

You tried to think of a comeback worthy of that ripe statement. But before you could continue your banter, Stephen got a call through the speaker of his car. 

His assistant started rattling off potential cases. As if you never existed, Stephen became completely engrossed in the conversation. He immediately rejected the first two options. Using his signature line of asking for something “worth his time.”

You turned to him and asked, “Are you really going to do this now?”

Slightly offended by the interruption to his process, Stephen quipped, “If not now, when?” 

To him, it was obvious.

“It doesn’t seem like the most appropriate timing,” you said.

“C’mon. It’s not like we’re on a date,” he snapped.

You scoffed at his comment in a feeble attempt to hide how much it actually hurt. You folded your arms and looked out the window. The landscape flew by almost faster than you could visually process.

His assistant continued as if your conversation didn’t happen. 

“How about a 22-year-old female with an electronic implant in her brain to control schizophrenia...struck by lightning?”

_Yup, that’s the one._

“That does sound interesting. Can you send me the -” Stephen started. But a soft beep from his monitor answered his unfinished question.

You whipped your head around in near disbelief. To your horror, the scans appeared on a screen in front of him. Stephen instinctually glanced down to evaluate his next challenge.

“Stephen! You’re driving. Recklessly at that. You need to end this call,” you pleaded.

“Give me a moment,” he said passively. His eyes darted between the scans and the road; lost in his own world.

“I know you think highly of yourself. But you’re not invincible. Look at the scans when we get there,” you said more aggressively.

But before he could respond, Stephen lost control. 

The car tapped the one next to it. If Stephen was driving the speed limit, it might have caused minimal damage. But the speed and angle of his car made you the victim of a perfect storm.

You quickly spun out; lost in the sound of screeching tires and shattering metal. As if it were designed for flight, the car went soaring over the guardrail. The frail protection was no match for the massive momentum of the vehicle.

It all happened so fast. So unbelievably fast. 

But as you and Stephen flew through the air, there was a single moment where all of time slowed. As if the world stopped to witness this pivotal instance. You turned your head to look right into Stephen’s eyes. 

As if he had no choice, his mask was completely gone. Usually, he got to use science as his tool and partner. He had control. But now, everything is equal in the eyes of physics.

Stephen’s eyes looked back at yours filled with regret and fear. Both of you knowing there was nothing you could do to stop your impending fate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the symbolic tarot cards are back! As a wink to my first fic [The Alchemist's Daughter.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22576735/chapters/53951326)


	2. We Might As Well Be Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it just me or does Stephen Strange's love life _scream_ angst?

Two seconds flew by in an instant and changed his life.

The two months that followed felt like they would never end.

_How did he let this happen? To himself and to you?_

Stephen helplessly sat next to your bed trying to deny his reality that never seemed to change.

He was still trying to find a way to repair his hands. But doctors, surgery, and all of medicine continued to fail him. The frustration of the experience made him more volatile and short tempered by the day.

The only person who could have truly saved his hands right after that accident was lying in front of him.

Lost in a continual, indefinite coma...

...and it was all his fault.

He wanted to reach out and hold your hand. But he couldn’t let anything touch his damaged ones; let alone seek out the comfort of your touch. He didn’t deserve it. Especially when you weren’t there to openly offer it to him.

Stephen watched as your chest rose and fell with your breath. You no longer needed machines to breathe for you. But still, no one knew when you would wake up. 

_If you would wake up._

He scoured your charts himself; praying that the incompetence of your doctors would leave a solution available to him. Only to find that, like himself, you’d need something short of a miracle to recover. 

“C’mon. Work that witchy magic or whatever you call it. You have to wake up,” he pleaded in a low command. Stephen wished, oh how he wished, that he could believe in the spirit, magic, and mysticism that you saw in the world. He hoped that even if your beliefs were inaccessible to his scientific sensibilities, that they would still work _for you_.

He studied your face as if it was the last moment that he would see it.

 _The last moment he would see it with_ _you_ _still in it._

You had to wake up. You just had to. There was no other option. He couldn’t imagine your face without your bright smile and teasing laughs. He couldn’t live with all the pain he caused you. 

_And not just the pain of this moment._

Even though Stephen Strange didn’t want to be burdened by the torment of nostalgia, he couldn’t help but reminisce about the first time you met. That moment achingly melted into the years of your friendship and heartbreak.

He hated himself for all he’s done to you.

_Would you wake up to ever forgive him?_

But little did Stephen know, you were also reliving your memories together in the dreamy waters of your coma.

\---

You and Stephen Strange had your first real interaction during the second week of your residency. Not unlike your first day at Metro-General, Stephen walked up behind you while you were gathering items from your locker. 

Seeing the tiny altar in the back corner, he scoffed. “How can you call yourself a doctor when you seek comfort in crystals,” he mocked you.

“You’re just intimidated,” you said without turning to look at him. You knew exactly who was speaking to you. 

Dr. Stephen Strange. 

How could you _not_ recognize that voice and haughty tone?

“Intimidated by your ouija board? I don’t think so,” he arrogantly asserted.

“No,” you said as you closed the door to your locker. You turned around to see him with his arms crossed and judgment written across his face. “You’re intimidated that I’m the only one who isn’t trying to compete with you."

“Why would _I_ be intimidated by _you_? You’re just some sort of medical witch."

“Why yes, yes I am,” you said with a smile. “A medical witch who is equally as skilled as you with a scalpel _and_ can actually interact with patients - interact with _people,_ really. Something _you_ have yet to learn.”

You easily placed your bag over your shoulder and walked out of the room.

Leaving a dumbstruck Stephen Strange behind you.

Since that day, Stephen took a keen interest in you. While he would never openly admit it, you were right. You were the only resident who wasn’t trying to prove yourself to anyone. And you were equally, if not more, skilled than he was. 

_Although he’d never admit that last part._

Yes, you were confident in your skills. Yet, you didn’t need to overflate your ego like he did.

He was fascinated.

You noticed that since your first interaction, Stephen was always hovering nearby. He was always alone, but within your field of awareness. 

Tired of your lurking ghost, you finally approached him one day and said, “If we’re going to be together this much, we might as well be friends.”

Flustered, Stephen tried to pretend he didn’t know what you were talking about. But you casually shrugged and walked off. Leaving him wondering if friendship was possible between the two of you. 

_Could he be friends? Let alone with someone like you?_

The next day, you brought him a coffee: black with four shots of espresso. He wasn’t sure what to make of your gesture, but reached out to accept your offering anyway. Before he could grab ahold of it, you withdrew the cup from his grasp and held up a finger.

“For every coffee I bring you, you have to tell me one thing about you _and_ listen to one thing about me. Deal?” you said.

While Stephen wasn’t initially thrilled by your proposal, he couldn’t help but be curious about you. He was relieved at the idea of having a set structure to develop your - could he call it - _friendship_? 

Structure gave him confidence and certainty. As unknown as this social territory was for him, Stephen was grateful that you offered those comforts to him.

Thus began the morning ritual of your budding friendship. You bought coffee for both of you. He would tell you something about himself. Then listen to you share something about you. The exchange was simple. But its impact ran deep.

You learned that he was from Nebraska, has a photographic memory, and got his doctorate at the same time he was in medical school. You weren’t stingy to show that you were impressed with him. But when he tried to exploit your generosity for the sake of his ego, you skillfully disengaged: effectively putting him in his place.

He, in turn, listened to you tell stories of your hometown, your family, and why you went into medicine. Sometimes you offered glimpses of your spiritual side. But your choice of beliefs continued to baffle and slightly offend him. Instead, Stephen preferred to listen to you talk about the people you cared about. Secretly hoping that maybe one day, you would talk about him with equal fondness.

_Should he ever be so fortunate._

Eventually, the coffee ruse fell to the wayside as you spent more and more time together: inside and outside the hospital. Stephen was delightfully surprised to find that the two of you became fast friends. While he usually found people to be quite insufferable, you were easily his favorite person to spend time with.

How you - a kind-hearted, empathetic, and emotionally intelligent person - could find pleasure in the company of his arrogance and vanity, Stephen Strange never knew. But it was the one mystery of the Universe that he felt like he didn’t _have_ to logically understand. 

_Fearing his logic would dissipate the magic._

Perhaps Stephen could have developed a small crush on you. Perhaps there were feelings brewing within his closed-off heart. Perhaps.

You, afterall, welcomed him so openly into yours. Then again, you had a tendency to do that with everyone. Your generosity in spirit, joy, and kindness continued to bewilder him.

But instead of understanding those feelings or exploring them with a gentle curiosity, he locked them away. The comfort of not understanding his mysterious emotions surmounted the possibility that they could bear fruit.

To his superficial satisfaction, Stephen found more security in fleeting dalliances with nurses and interns. He could always count on their amazement at his surgical prowess; which constantly fed his ego.

Any involvement with you, on the other hand, would require a level of vulnerability, honesty, and humility that Stephen could not yet muster within himself. And he knew it. He thought he was sparing you from his wickedness by locking away his heart.

_Maybe sparing himself too._

Truthfully, you weren’t thrilled by his promiscuous behavior. But you thought it would be out of line for you to provide too much commentary. You only ever rolled your eyes when he got a text and not-so-subtly cut your time together short.

_Who were you to keep the man from his awaiting...um, lady? It’s not like you were offering him anything of the like._

Often times, men at the hospital would ask you out. Like Stephen, they were attracted to your radiant energy and infectious laugh. Your kindness magnetized lonely and open hearts alike. But you always kindly declined under the pretense that you could only focus on work. 

_Were you lying to them or yourself?_

Stephen certainly noticed your constant rejection of romance. But like you, never asked you about it. As the two of you grew closer, the unspoken words between you always lingered in the silent moments. Although Stephen was usually the first to shatter the fragile, longing questions out of pure discomfort.

The two of you were eating lunch in the hospital cafeteria one day. While you were mid-bite, a beautiful woman in blue scrubs walked over and lowered her lips right next to his ear.

“I hear you’re quite skilled with your hands, doctor. I’d love for you to show me sometime,” she whispered quietly.

_But not quietly enough._

She strut away leaving you nearly choking on your lunch and Stephen’s eyes darting around; unsure of where it was safe to place them. Normally a suave man, he had no idea what he was supposed to do at that moment. Stephen never displayed his seductive side in front of you. 

_Not that he hadn’t thought about it._

_Under different circumstances, of course._

When you finally recovered from your food assault, you looked down at your half eaten lunch and said, “I’m not hungry anymore.” Then you abruptly left the table without another word.

You went to a conference room to bury yourself in the guise of research. Not that you could comprehend a word amongst your pages of notes and research papers. 

All this time, you thought you were so clever. You kept telling yourself that you were too busy for love, romance, or even a steamy exchange between strangers.

You blamed your job. You blamed your long hours. You blamed your unpredictable schedule.

It was the perfect ruse. So perfect that it fooled you too.

Yet, every _no_ that you said was really a _yes._

_A yes for someone else. A yes for him._

Your burning jealousy was so painfully obvious, even you could see it. At least, now you could. But the question remained...

_...could he?_

No, Stephen could never want you. At least, not in that way. His track record proved it over and over again. His interests lingered elsewhere and never in the same place for too long. Although the evidence told you one story, it never stopped your heart from asking _why not me, why not me, why not me._

You weren’t sure who started it, but you and Stephen spent less and less time together after that day. The ghost of unspoken words haunted both of your dreams. But these tender moments never made it to the daylight.

As you neared the end of your residency, job offers started coming through for all the residents. You were elated to receive three strong offers. All, of course, upon the condition of you passing your board exams. 

You couldn’t decide if you wanted to stay in Manhattan or if you wanted to venture to the other side of the country. Seattle and Los Angeles both sounded like a nice change of pace. It could be good for you to get a fresh start.

On the morning of your board exams, you found Stephen and sat next to him in the lobby of the conference center. It had been a few months since you two spent any time together privately. He looked up, to his surprise and secret delight, to see you with two coffees in hand. 

You placed a coffee in front of him and said, “I've got three offers. Metro-General and two on the west coast.” You sipped your coffee and looked at him. “Your turn.”

“Also three. Metro-General, one in Boston, one in DC,” Stephen continued the ritual that first sparked your friendship.

You smiled as you took another sip. You missed him.

Part of you wondered what it would be like to stay in New York. _To stay with him._ Would time whittle away his insecurities and immaturity? Enough to leave a kernel of possibility for the two of you? But the question left almost as quickly as it came.

 _Almost_.

“I know that you won’t need it today, but good luck,” you told him. You let out a soft sigh then looked him in the eyes as if to say more. But you held yourself back. Now was not the time for nostalgia nor longing hearts.

He smiled as he took another sip. He missed you too. 

His only wish at that moment was that he could effectively hide the shadow of his sadness from you.

“Let them be wowed by the medical witch,” Stephen softly chuckled. 

Then, like the closing of a chapter, the announcer said it was time to begin.

An anxiety riddled week achingly passed by after your board exams. The results would be published that day. You invited your fellow residents over to your place for a party that night to celebrate your (hopefully) good news.

When Stephen saw your name on his phone, his heart flipped. Only to be crushed in a wave of disappointment when he saw he just was part of the group text. 

He hated to not be distinguished. But not being distinguished _by you_ was the worst of all.

However, Stephen let his logic do what his heart couldn’t. He decided to attend; rationalizing that it would be a good chance to hear where everyone would be working for future connections.

_Networking was a strategic move._

That evening, everyone arrived ready to C E L E B R A T E.

You already had a few drinks in your system when Stephen cautiously walked through your front door. To his surprise, you jovially swung your arm around his shoulder. You turned your face in towards his. Your lips nearly grazed his cheek. He relished the familiarity of your touch.

“St-Stephen! I’m so happy you decided to come! I’ve missed you, you arrogant bastard,” you laughed. He chuckled at your inebriated state; smelling the alcohol on your breath. Stephen couldn’t think of a time where you let yourself have more than _maybe_ a single drink. 

He was happy to see you let go a bit. You deserved it.

That night, Stephen took it upon himself to watch over you. But only from a distance. He couldn’t risk getting too close. He nervously watched as you downed one drink after the next. All while he effectively shut down the advances of any interested parties.

 _Towards him_.

To his surprise, you could handle yourself even as intoxicated as you were.

At one point, you started laughing with some other residents as he overheard you saying, “As s-s-surgeons, aren’t we just stabbing people back to life?”

Stephen looked down and chuckled under his breath knowing you wouldn’t remember anything from that night.

After a few people left in cabs and others passed out on your living room floor, Stephen caught your balance as you as you drunkenly stumbled through your kitchen. While you didn’t know, he was aware that you were to only two still awake.

Stephen smiled and said, “Careful there. I think you’re done for the night.”

You started giggling. “Thanks, Greg. You’re my knight in shining scrubs,” you managed to slur your words to be just coherent enough.

Stephen gave you a sad smile realizing that you thought he was another one of the residents. One who asked you out many times over the past few years. But instead of dwelling, he scooped you up and dutifully carried you to your bedroom. 

Gently placing you on your bed, Stephen adjusting the blankets around you. 

_He couldn’t admit that he was tucking you in._

“You know, Greg. I should have let you be my knight in shining scrubs all these years. I’m sorry I said no every time you asked me out,” you said.

Stephen gave you a small half smile after pulling the covers over you. 

_No tucking. Just placing._

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not! It’s not okay. I’ll be alone _f o r e v e r_.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“But I will. It’s my fate. Because I love him. And he’ll never love me back. He can only love himself.”

If he didn’t know better, Stephen would have said that his heart skipped a beat. But he did, in fact, know better. He could pretend that he didn’t know what - or more specifically _who_ \- you were talking about.

Unfortunately for him, your drunk self had different plans.

“At least he pretends to only love himself. It’s all a mask. Stephen Strange doesn’t think he deserves to be happy. But I wish he could be happy with me,” you mumbled those final haunting words before passing out.

Stephen should have called you the next day. For years, he asked himself what could have been if he did. But anytime the curious nudge from his heart came knocking, he buried it in distractions.

The pain of his mistake was too much to bear.

If he did, maybe things would have been different. Maybe you would have decided to stay in New York. 

Maybe you would have decided to stay _with him_.

You wouldn’t have had to run away from his inability to love you in the way that you deserved. Maybe you two could be happy together.

You were the only person who could ever keep his ego in check. At least, the only person he used to let do that. Why, why, why, _why_ didn’t he just listen to you in the car? 

Why didn’t he just listen to you like you asked him to with that first fateful coffee?

If you were with him all these years, maybe he wouldn’t have let his arrogance and vanity get the best of him. Maybe he would be different.

_Then again, was it fair to make that your job?_

The agony of what ifs was torture for Stephen. They always were. But unfortunately for him, the could-have-beens were inescapable now. Facts, logic, and reasoning were useless to him. 

Except for one truth that haunted him with every breath you took.

_If he had just called you all those years ago, you wouldn’t be lying there._

Him without you.  
You without him.


	3. Burned Bridges

Your consciousness slowly returned to the real world. The spell of your coma gently faded into the past. The first sensory input that your awareness took in was the rhythmic beeping of machines and monitors. 

Your focus was groggy. But you slowly fluttered your eyelids open; nervous about what waited on the other side of the darkness. Your brain struggled to piece together your current predicament as you took in your surroundings.

_Yes, you were in the hospital._ _But what happened?_

Your mind stretched as it tried to recall the clearest memory from the dusty cavities of the past. Yes, you remembered Stephen inviting you to the society dinner. You remembered trying to decide what to wear. Your mind replayed everything it could remember after he came to pick you up.

He opened the door for you.

He sped off into the night.

You teased him for his reckless driving.

His assistant called.

He blew you off.

Then.

Oh no.

No no no no.

The accident.

You were in an accident.

A terrible, terrible accident.

The memories bombarded your mind almost faster than you could fully recollect them.

You remembered fading in and out of consciousness. You wondered if anyone would ever find you. You screamed at Stephen and begged him to stay awake. You couldn’t move because something, the dash, crushed your chest. A helicopter came. The flash of the hospital lights nearly blinded you. Christine tried to tell you what was happening. You couldn’t hear a word she said.

You and Stephen Strange were in a terrible, terrible accident.

_ But wait, where was he? _

As if your body had no choice, you bolted upright in your hospital bed. 

_ Stephen. No no no. Stephen had to be okay. Where. Was. He? _

You hastily ripped the IVs and tubes out of your arm. The stickers connecting you to your monitors disappeared in a blur. You haphazardly swung your legs over the side of the bed. But when your feet hit the floor, you were surprised by how difficult it was for you to stand. Your muscles were weak. Really weak.

_ How long were you out? _

You grabbed ahold of the bedside railing with an ironclad grip. Trying to keep yourself up grew more difficult with each passing moment. But you  _ had _ to find him. You had to make sure he was okay.

Just as you were about to start hobbling out of your room with invincible will, a nurse ran into your room to help you catch your balance. He called out your name and led you back to the hospital bed against your frustrated protests.

“You need to lie down. Please, doctor,” he pleaded. He gently, but firmly, held your arms as he tried to get you back into bed. 

_ As if you hadn’t spent enough time there already. _

“No, no. I have to find Stephen,” you barely managed to breathe out. You tried to escape from his grip. But your weak body was no match for his.

“Let me get Dr. Palmer and she can fill you in,” he offered. He prayed that you would be a cooperative patient. Although he didn’t have his hopes up considering your profession.

At the sound of Christine’s name, you stopped fighting against him and sat down on the edge of the bed. She would have answers. The nurse let go of you with a bit of surprise and waited to make sure you would stay put.

“Yes, get Christine,” you whispered. You gripped the edge of the bed like your life depended on it. Hanging your head in defeat, you could feel your heart rate increasing. You didn’t need machines to tune you into the anxious rhythm of your body. 

Your mind started spinning tales of infinite, all equally horrible, possibilities. You tried to not entertain the trickery of your brain. But these defense mechanisms still left their mark; desperately searching for answers even if that meant fabricating the most painful ones.

_ What. Happened. _

Christine stepped into your room with concern and relief painted across her face. She approached you slowly before gesturing to the spot next to you; asking to sit without any words.

The fact that she hadn’t said anything made you nervous. Oh god, how it made you nervous. You wanted to ask her a million questions. But you were afraid of the answers. They could be even worse than the ones your brain made up. This might be your last moment of painful ignorance. 

_ Should you relish it? _

You nodded softly to tell Christine to sit with you. She clasped her hands in her lap and took a nervous gulp. Her anxiety only magnified yours. Turning her head to you, she started. Both of you fearing, and knowing, that life would never be the same after this conversation.

“You were in an accident. It was bad. Really bad. We weren’t sure if they were going to find you.”

Remembering the accident was one thing. Having another person confirm that your memories were true was another. The part of you who wished the memory of your accident was another deception of your mind died right then and there.

“How bad was it?” you asked. Your eyes glanced down at your body to better specify what you were asking about. She wasn’t instantly hooking you back up to all your machines. So that had to be a good sign, right?

“You had a lot of internal bleeding. Serious crush injuries to your chest cavity. We fixed as much of your internal injuries as we could. But even when you stabilized after surgery, you didn’t wake up.”

Your heart dropped right into your stomach.

Christine continued somberly, “We weren’t sure  _ if _ you’d wake up.”

“H-h-how long?” you timidly asked. There was no denying the waver in your voice. Not that you cared about maintaining much composure.

Christine parted her lips as if to speak. She was afraid to let the words leave her mouth. But your eyes pleaded for answers.

“How long?” you repeated.

“A year,” she whispered.

Your hands started shaking. A year. You were in a coma for twelve whole months. What  _ happened _ in those twelve months? What happened as the world moved forward while you - your entire world - came to a screeching halt?

You looked at Christine as if to ask her to fill in everything from the past year with a single glance. Not that it was a fair ask of her and you knew it. But the fear in her eyes broke you. 

You started sobbing into your hands with little composure; not giving a fuck about your grace. Your body trembled as the shock and terror passed through you. As you cried, you noticed a dull pain in your ribs. Like your heart, your body was still healing too. Everything hurt. 

_ Everything. _

Christine kindly stroked your back as you cried. She wished that she could offer you more comfort. It pained her more than she could express to have to go through this  _ again _ . No matter how relieved she was that you finally woke up.

_ Yes, you and Stephen Strange were in a terrible, terrible accident. _

“Stephen,” you breathed through trembling lips. You had to know what happened to him. Like Stephen, you needed the comfort of certainty. Even if that certainty would tear you to pieces.

“He...he survived. He’s... _ okay _ ,” she informed you.

Your body gave out a tremendous sigh of relief. Stephen was alive. But your stomach twisted in knots at the inflection of her last word.

“For the most part,” Christine added. She stared at the floor in regret; unsure of how much she should tell you the rest. As a doctor, she couldn’t violate Stephen’s privacy. But she also wanted to give you some answers. It’s not like he was private about his suffering. But just because he was open with others didn’t mean that he would be open with you.

Your eyes widened as you waited for her to continue.

“His hands,” she said with an anxious gulp. “The nerve damage was too severe. It took so long to find you guys. He can’t...he can’t operate. He needed, well, he needed -”

“Me,” you finished for her.

She bit her lip and nodded gravely. You looked at the ground and blinked rapidly as if it would help you wake up from this nightmare. Sure, Stephen was alive. But the thought of Stephen Strange without his brilliant hands was like a fish without water.

Gasping for air.

_ No, this couldn’t all be real.  _

Surely you’d wake up and Stephen would be asking you to go to the society dinner with him.

Surely you’d wake up and you’d be staring at the official offer from Metro-General.

Surely you’d wake up and you’d be nervously wondering if you should call him after drunkenly professing your love to him the night before.

_ Surely you’d wake up and this passing of time would just be a false memory. Another trick of your brain. _

But with every breath, every blink of an eye, every agonizing moment melting from the future to the present to the past, you were still sitting on that hospital bed. Left with your ribs still healing, your muscles still atrophied, and Stephen still nowhere in sight.

Time was no longer relevant. And yet, you were still its prisoner.

“I have to talk to him,” you said after a deafening silence.

Christine started softly shaking her head.

“He left,” she told you. Her eyes filled with sadness. She  _ hated  _ having to do this. “He spent months trying to find someone or something to fix his hands. But the damage was too severe. He was so frustrated.  _ So angry. _ ”

Now, a few tears welled in her eyes. You stared at her blankly trying to ensure that you heard her correctly.

Christine continued, “He spent  _ everything  _ trying to find a way. And there just  _ wasn’t _ one. He refused to believe it. He burned  _ so many _ bridges along the way.”

Yes, you knew that Stephen could get hostile. You saw him tear into some of the other residents and even your teachers throughout your residency. But the devastation of losing his ability to operate? You couldn’t begin to imagine how painful it was for him.

_ But you could imagine how painful he made it for others. _

“I’m so sorry, Christine. You didn’t deserve that,” you said softly; knowing full well that one of those bridges he burned was his relationship with her. You gently placed a hand on her knee in an attempt to offer her some solace. 

Upon your apology on Stephen’s behalf, Christine nearly broke down. How deeply she ached to be seen for her suffering as well. Because she too was a victim of this accident. But she had to tell you one last thing.

“He spent the rest of his money on a one-way ticket to Nepal,” she whispered.

“What?” you asked in disbelief.

That was so uncharacteristic of him. Going to Nepal? One way? It didn’t make any sense. And when it came to Stephen Strange,  _ everything _ always made sense. It had to.

“I don’t know. He heard about  _ some place _ and said he had to go. He’s tried to email me a few times. But I...I never replied,” she said before nervously glancing down at the floor. Christine wasn’t sure if she wanted to tell you that last part. She didn’t want you to judge her.

“Christine. I-I’m so sorry. This must have been awful for you,” you said.

You were gone for such a long time. So long, Christine almost forgot about your kindness. You barely got to know each other in those months before the accident. Your tenderness awakened a hurt part within her after months of being drowned by Stephen’s cruelty and abuse. 

She knew that you and Stephen were friends before. But, like Stephen himself, your friendship with the insufferable doctor surprised her. 

You two were so  _ different. _

Now, it was Christine’s turn to start crying. She was exhausted from being the one who always had to have it all together. Christine felt like she always had to pick up the pieces after the damage that Stephen caused. Even though part of her knew that wasn’t her job. 

Of course, she loved Stephen. But she hated having to compensate for his volatility with enough patience for both of them. It was draining the life out of her. Day in and day out, she felt like she was bleeding out. Bleeding out in a way that no surgery could cauterize.

It wasn’t fair for her. It wasn’t fair at all. When truthfully, it wasn’t fair to him either because it enabled his childish behavior. With her, Stephen never had to take ownership for himself or his actions.

You pulled her into a hug as she sobbed out her heartbreak and rejection. Stephen never learned how to internally process his pain. And he sure had his fair share of it. Like we all do. 

But instead of using his insatiable curiosity to better understand the depths of his emotional wounds, Stephen Strange always made everyone else pay the price for  _ his _ emotional incompetence.

Valuing his mental intellect over the emotional saved him from having to admit his own downfalls. His overly inflated ego saved him from having to feel the deep pain of not feeling good enough. 

For as much as his career skyrocketed over the years, Stephen himself didn’t grow that much. Even as a world renowned surgeon, he slapped a band-aid over that broken, bleeding heart of his. The heart that screamed that he would never deserve happiness. 

He drowned his sorrows in vanity, arrogance, and feigned disinterest in others. When really, like all of us, he wanted to feel the deep love and belonging that could only come with connecting with other human beings. If only he could  _ see _ emotional pain like he could with the physical. He might accept this challenge like any other.

It broke your heart to see the truth. But it confirmed your decision to leave New York all those years ago.

From the moment your friendship began, you accepted Stephen Strange exactly as he was. You never asked him to change in your words, actions, or even by the longing of your heart. You knew that was a path that would only leave the two of you broken and feeling like neither of you could be good enough for the other. 

But you hoped, for his sake and possibly yours, that he would choose to. Someday.

As much as it pained you, accepting Stephen as the emotionally stunted, arrogant bastard that he was also meant accepting that he couldn’t love you in the way that you wanted nor deserved. And  _ that _ was the honest truth that set you free of him. If only Christine could have learned the same sooner. 

Then again, that was  _ her  _ journey and not yours.

She sniffled and wiped away a few tears after withdrawing from your embrace.

“Thank you,” she said softly.

“You’re welcome. Anytime,” you assured her. She smiled; feeling infinitely lighter after releasing the pain she spent months dragging along with her. You could see the lightness and warmth returning to her face. 

You liked Christine. Maybe the two of you could one day be friends. You certainly hoped so.

You gently sighed and looked her in the eyes. 

“So, I take it I’m not getting out of here tonight?” you asked with a gently playful smirk.

Christine laughed and wiped away a reminding tear; grateful for the change in subject. She shook her head to confirm your assumption was correct.

“You should know. You’re going to have a stay a few nights for us to keep an eye on you,” she said.

“Well, know that I’m here for you,” you offered her.

Christine smiled and breathed a sigh of relief. It felt good to finally have someone in her corner.

“Thanks. You too,” she said.

Now, it was time to start your own road to recovery.

With a new friend in tow.


	4. Master of the Mystic Arts

Even after you were discharged from the hospital, you had to take some time off before you could get back to work; let alone operate. You were in physical therapy and kicking ass at it. 

_ If you were to ask yourself. _

Psychotherapy, on the other hand, was a different story. While you had no qualms about getting help for your mental health, it was slower moving than your physical healing. But if the Universe taught you anything over the past year, it’s that time is relative.

As part of your rehabilitation, you started taking morning walks around the city. Sometimes, it felt like someone was watching you. But anytime you looked over your shoulder, your eyes were met with the typical bustling streets of New York.

You wanted to spend more time with Christine. But things picked up for her at work with your absence. When you could, you’d stop by the hospital to keep her company while she scarfed down her lunch. If anyone could understand her ever-changing schedule, it was you. 

Christine appreciated your company more than she could express. Like you, she felt the pressure of having to disown her feminine side over the years in such a masculine industry. It was refreshing for her to be with someone who wouldn’t exploit her softness.

That was probably the biggest difference between you and Christine. Yes, you were both kind-hearted, empathetic, and emotionally intelligent women. But Christine felt an underlying need to prove herself to the world. It was a curse you, fortunately, never inherited from your family.

The more that you got to know Christine, the more you saw how she and Stephen were a perfect storm. She needed to be needed and willingly sacrificed herself for that cause. He needed someone who wouldn’t challenge his narcissism so he could continue to protect himself with his overly inflated ego.

His avoidant attachment made him withdraw from affection and intimacy. Her anxious attachment made her crave that which he did not give even more. Their relationship was a perfectly destructive chase of pursuer and retreater. 

It was a cycle that would never end unless one of them changed; ideally both. At their cores, Christine Palmer and Stephen Strange felt the same pain: the pain of not being worthy. But the way they expressed it was drastically different. They only fed each other's wounds.

Fortunately for her, Christine was ready to start a different path for herself. You hoped she would be able to break the cycle for good.

When the two of you spent glimpses of time together, you didn’t talk about Stephen too much. For once, he didn’t have to be the center of either of your worlds. It was a great relief to you both. You found mutual comfort in letting him be a remnant of the past when you were with her. Naturally, Christine felt the same.

When you were by yourself, however, it was a different story.

One evening, you sat in your apartment continuing the ritual you started since you were discharged from the hospital. You stared at an open draft in your email; still unsure if you should hit send.

_ Stephen, _

_ I don’t know where you are or what you’re doing. But I’m awake and alive. Let me know that you’re okay. _

…

The blinking cursor haunted you daily.

Sure, you understood why Stephen left. He suffered a great trauma and loss. In fact, his entire world changed in a matter of seconds. Maybe this fresh start would be a good change for him. Like your move was for you.

But as much as you could intellectually understand and justify his actions, it didn’t change the fact that he still left.

Left  _ you _ .

And that hurt.

Christine told you that he tried to stay by your side for the first few weeks. But Stephen quickly spiraled in his pursuit of deliverance from his personal hell. 

_ Watching you was part of that torment. _

It seemed like the story was always the same with him. When it got down to it, he would always choose his own emotional self preservation through isolation and abandonment; leaving a trail of hurt, broken hearts in his wake.

Maybe Stephen Strange wasn’t made for connection. Just an operating room.

_ Well...not anymore. _

You closed your laptop and let out a frustrated sigh. Massaging your temples with your forefingers, you wondered why you continued to torture yourself with the suspense of indecision. 

You just had to commit: to send or not to send. Then you’d be free of this limbo.

_ Well, easier said than done. _

But before you could reopen your laptop to stare at that draft for the umpteenth time, you heard a chilling voice behind you.

“He’s not thinking about you, you know.”

The hair on the back of your neck instantly stood on end. You lept off your couch in a panic and spun around to face your intruder. 

“Who are you and how did you get into my apartment?” you blurted out. 

You quickly realized that the only defense you possessed was your words. You weren’t sure if your body was strong enough to fight anyone. But you knew that would damn well try if it came to it.

“Relax, I’m not here to hurt you. In fact, I’m here to help,” the man said smoothly.

“Says the creeper lurking in the shadows. You need to leave before I call the police,” you commanded.

“Of course, where are my manners?” he said. Your intruder ominously stepped out of the soft shadows of your living room. He wore saffron robes that certainly couldn’t be considered New York City streetwear. His silver hair was neatly pulled back to clearly reveal…

...his face.

It was the most unsettling part about him. His eyes were dark and sunken. The area surrounding them looked like it was burnt. But instead of leaving scars, these fires turned his skin to ash.

_ Who was this guy? And what happened to him? _

“My name is Kaecilius. I am the leader of the Zealots and a  _ former _ Master of the Mystic Arts,” he said calmly. Kaecilius didn’t want to have to tell you that last title. But he thought it was necessary for you to understand who he was. Or more specifically, the power he possessed.

“What do you want with me? I have nothing that should interest you,” you pleaded. 

You were cursing yourself in your head. You knew someone was following you. You  _ knew _ . But you dismissed it as paranoia after the accident. If only you listened to your gut.

Kaecilius tilted his head before continuing, “I never said that I want something from you. Again, I’m here to help.”

“Great, then you can help me by getting the hell out of my apartment and never coming back,” you barked.

“Ah yes, we knew you had a fighter’s spirit. I shouldn’t be surprised. Please, allow me to make you more comfortable,” Kaecilius outstretched his hand.

Before you could react and ask him what he meant by the cryptic message, you were sitting at your dining table with a cup of tea in hand.

“WHAT. JUST. HAPPENED!” you exclaimed as you threw your hands in the air; nearly knocking over your where-the-fuck-did-this-come-from tea.

“Surely doctor. You are aware of the mystic arts,” he said. 

“N-n-no! I don’t know who you are or what you’re talking about. For the last time, you need to  _ leave _ ,” you tried to firmly command. But, to your displeasure, it came out more like begging.

“Please, let me explain. I can tell you what happened to your friend. But I can only do so if you’ll allow me,” Kaecilius requested. He was willing to wait as long as he had to. You were worth his time. He needed you to be as receptive to him as possible.

You remembered the first words that Kaecilius said to you only moments ago. 

_ He’s not thinking about you _ . 

Stephen. He had information about Stephen. You had a sick feeling in your stomach. Everything about this felt  _ off _ . But if Stephen was involved with this guy, he might be in trouble. 

“Okay. I’m listening,” you said. You tightened your grip around your teacup; clutching it for any sense of security. 

Kaecilius nodded and gave you a satisfied smile. You weren’t sure if you could trust it. You weren’t sure if you trust  _ him _ .

He started, “When Western medicine failed him, he sought alternative methods to heal him. This path led him into the arms of an incredibly alluring, but dangerous sorceress.”

You cocked an eyebrow. You weren’t sure if you were hearing this right. A sorceress? Let alone  _ Stephen Strange _ of all people being attracted to some type of metaphysical healing?

“She collects broken people under the guise of healing them. But she uses their hopes for salvation to recruit them for her cause. All while keeping the real magic to herself.”

You raised your hands to stop him from pressing forward. Shaking your head, you said, “No. I don’t know who or what you’re talking about. But you’ve got your wires crossed. You’re definitely not talking about Stephen Strange. And you’re definitely not telling me that he found a magical cult to join.”

“Tell me, doctor. Do you believe there is magic in this world?” Kaecilius asked as if he knew the answer already.

“Well, yes. I believe there is some magic that science can’t fully explain. But it’s a type of magical wonder of life. Not actual spells and enchantments.”

“Where do you believe this magic comes from?”

“Energy. Everything is energy.”

“And what if I told you that you could harness that energy? That you can take the magic and mysticism that you believe in and cast it into these fabled ‘spells and enchantments’. To use your own words.”

“I would say ‘prove it.’ I’d need evidence.”

“Of course, you are a scientist after all.”

You weren’t sure how much of this you could believe. Was this man trustworthy? Even so, how much could you risk  _ not _ trusting him if Stephen was actually in danger?

Then, before your very eyes, Kaecilius did what you thought was impossible. He manipulated his hands to compress the space between them. Then extended the new form to create what  _ looked  _ like a long shard of glass. Made, literally, out of thin hair.

He reached out with this incredible wonder and placed it in your hands to observe. You moved the figure around; nearly cutting yourself on the edge. 

“Careful, it’s sharp,” he chuckled.

Your eyes widened in awe. Could you let yourself believe this? That this man could truly manipulate space and matter? And if so, did that mean that  _ everything  _ he told you was actually true? 

“B-b-but how?” you asked.

“You’ve already answered that yourself, doctor. Energy. You only need to learn to control it to create what some would call  _ magic _ .”

“And this is something that you learned how to do? You weren’t born with it or bitten by a radioactive window pane?”

Kaecilius chuckled at your jesting. Even in the complete transformation of your reality, you still found a way to humor the experience. It intrigued him.

“No, not at all. Like you did to become a doctor, I mastered the mystic arts through intense study and discipline. And I have no doubt that  _ you _ can too.”

You could... _ master _ the  _ mystic  _ arts? These mystic arts that you only just now learned were, in fact, real? This was becoming much bigger than you ever expected.

Kaecilius pressed onwards, “Your friend is in grave danger. I know you care for him. But if you wish to help him, you must learn to wield your own magic. And I can teach you.”

You gulped nervously. You could only imagine how desperate Stephen got after losing his ability to operate. It was so much of his identity. In fact, it was one of the only pillars holding up his overly inflated ego. Without those, who was he? 

If someone presented him with the physical evidence of mystical miracles like you saw before you, you could definitely see him falling into an unsafe situation.

_ Then again, you didn’t want to make the same mistake. _

“Okay, but what do you get out of this deal?” you asked Kaecilius for some transparency.

“I wish to bring down the sorceress who promised me healing but gave me parlor tricks. She preys on the weak and vulnerable. It’s time that someone did something to stop it. There are some of us who could finally see beyond her manipulations. We broke free from her and call ourselves the Zealots.

“She tries to rule the world through control and greed. Instead, we seek to save it. There is a great power that can bring us the salvation that humanity deserves. But she selfishly hoards it for herself alone. To bring this gift to humanity, I need all the help that I can get. And if that means you can also save your friend, then we -  _ I _ \- would be honored to have you.”

You looked at Kaecilius with wide eyes. Everything he told you, he completely believed. There was no doubt about that. Moreover, Stephen was in danger. And it seemed like you, with the help of Kaecilius, could be the only one to help him.

Your heart started racing faster as you said the two words that would change your life.

“Teach me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was so mad at Stephen for being an emotionally abusive dick that I (unintentionally) kicked him out for a few chapters. But don't worry. He'll be back soon! ;)


	5. Sleight of Hand

After your initial recruitment, Kaecilius took you to the Zealots homebase. The first time you saw him use his sling ring to conjure a portal, you weren’t sure if you’d make it to the other side. It seemed too unreal.

But to your amazement, the portal successfully transported you with your new mentor. From that moment forward, you quickly adjusted to the wonders of your new reality.

With a special interest in the development of your magic, Kaecilius took it upon himself to instruct you with private lessons. As your teacher, he took a special pride in your progress; harboring some of your success as his own. 

Although he was incredibly skilled at feigning humility. You didn’t suspect a drop of his narcissism.

That day, you finished a lesson with him on the different weapons you could wield through the magic of your orange sparks. After spending so much time together, you wanted to understand more about the man who transformed your entire world. 

Nervously picking at the sleeve of your maroon robes, you asked, “Kaecilius, I imagine that people don’t get introduced to the mystic arts because they want to learn card tricks. How did you come across the Ancient One?” 

You weren’t sure if your question was out of line. But you hoped that he could be open with you.

Looking off into the distance, Kaecilius sighed as memories bubbled to the surface. Over the years, he grew accustomed to recollecting them. They were no longer as painful as they used to be; the rawness eroded by the sands of time. He took a step to face you and began.

“I had a son who died when he was young. My wife, my Adria, she and I somehow learned how to live a fairly happy life together even after his death,” he recollected her name with unexpected tenderness. “Yet, my love was not meant to last. She grew sick. I tried everything that I could to save her. But there was nothing that I could do. She...she died despite all my efforts.

Kaecilius hung his head in sorrow. He truly never expected his life to turn out this way. Then again, none do. He pressed onwards, “Her death, compounded with the loss of my son, _broke_ me. I desperately sought to understand _why_ this happened. Why were they taken from this earth so soon? From me?”

You gingerly placed a hand over your heart. Your eyes widened with appreciation at how much Kaecilius was willing to share with you. His vulnerability was something you were not accustomed to with the men - well, a certain _man_ \- you grew close to.

“I went to the Ancient One with the hopes of understanding a greater meaning to their deaths. She drew me in with promises of understanding the Universe and all that it had to offer me. Yet everything she taught me was for her. She only taught me the skills that she needed me to have. And in the process, she completely failed to fulfill the one promise that truly mattered to me,” Kaecilius lamented.

He closed his eyes and tightened his hand in a fist; bringing it to his chest. His betrayal clearly shone on the surface of his face. Truly, there was nothing to hide in his origin story.

“And that’s when you left?” you asked.

He nodded firmly. “Yes, I was surprised to see how many others she lured into her web who also felt wronged by her. Not everyone was aware of her deception. I certainly faced resistance. But I’m grateful for all who have agreed to help me stop her. Even at the price of losing the reality they once held dear.”

Kaecilius took a step forward and placed a hand on your shoulder. He looked at you with both respect and admiration.

“ _Including you,_ ” he finished.

You nodded softly in gratitude at his honesty. It was a refreshing change of pace that you hoped you could grow accustomed to. Kaecilius’ openness paved way for your loyalty and devotion to his, _now your_ , cause.

From that day forward, you vowed your soul to take down the Ancient One. You had to save as many desperate hearts from the pain of her betrayal. She couldn’t continue to rip apart people’s pain with her lies and deception. But now, you committed yourself to this mission not just for Stephen, but for your wronged mentor as well.

You integrated beautifully into the fabric of your new community. Other than Kaecilius, you grew close to another Zealot named Lucian. You appreciated his intensity and commitment to your mutual calling. 

When Lucian told you how the Ancient One said he had to choose between his own healing and power, while _she_ wielded both for herself, your blood boiled at her hypocrisy.

It burdened your heart to think of Stephen in the grasp of such a manipulative person. Part of you wanted to believe that it wasn’t possible for someone to so skillfully exploit the vulnerability of desperate people. But you also knew that true monsters existed in the world. 

You were no child deceived by sleight of hand tricks.

At the thought of Stephen, your heart decided to flash a distant memory before your mind. It was one of the toughest days of your residency. You lost a patient after a grueling eleven hours of surgery. No one wanted to believe this case ended with a time of death. But belief couldn’t save this patient - or yourself - from the plans of Fate.

Like a hollow ghost, you walked into the locker room shower still dressed in blood-stained scrubs and turned on the water. As the hot water soaked through you, you pressed your back to the wall and sank to the floor. Your body gave into the tragedy of that day as you sobbed. 

You tried to think of everything you could have done differently to save that patient. Your mental faculties, however, were nowhere to be found.

Your face was buried in your hands as tears stained your face, your palms, and every crevice of your heart. This was one of the few times that you wished you didn’t have to feel all your damn feelings. But you were also grateful for the tenderness of this human experience. 

Even as you shut out the rest of the world, determined to suffer in solitude, there was one person who was ready to come into yours. Stephen heard about your patient and came to find you. 

When he walked into the locker room, he heard the sound of the shower and tentatively walked over to see if it was you. To his great surprise, there you were: completely soaked through to the core and falling apart. The blood ran through your scrubs to paint the tiled floor. It mixed with your tears and heartbreak before disappearing into the drain.

Stephen’s brain tried to come up with a million different solutions to fix the “problem” before him. It wanted an effective and efficient way to eradicate your pain. But contrary to everything that his mind told him, his body took control as he tenderly stepped into that shower; daring to enter your world.

Daring to enter your heart.

You didn’t even notice him until a pair of arms wrapped themselves around you. Initially, you flinched at the contact in shock. But when you saw who they belonged to, you surrendered even deeper into the depths of your pain.

It could have been two seconds or two years. Only time could tell how much of it actually passed through you both. But for an immeasurable, unknown amount of time, Stephen Strange held you in that torrential shower and loved you as best he could with his own battered, bleeding heart.

No words. No solutions. Just him.

After your sobs faded into gentle whimpers, Stephen brought you into a tighter embrace. He took a deep breath and placed a devoted kiss on the top of your head; as if the touch of his lips could breathe new life into your broken heart. 

He slowly stood up so he could turn off the shower; untangling himself from you with the utmost care. Gently placing his hands around your elbows, he helped you stand up. He placed a few towels on the bench in front of your locker before letting you return to your solitude.

People were completely confused and baffled to see Stephen Strange walking to a storage closet soaking wet. But he diligently changed and dried off to erase that moment from his body.

_But never his heart._

Neither of you ever said a word about that day. But the moment was forever etched in time. Truthfully, it was the one time that Stephen truly showed up for you like you needed. 

And now, it was your turn to do the same for him.

The first few months of your time at the Zealot’s compound flew by in a blur. One day, you were training with Lucian when Kaecilius approached to watch you in combat. While Lucian pulled energy from the Dark Dimension to manipulate space and matter, you still wielded the whips and shields of your orange sparks. 

You skillfully disarmed Lucian by wrapping your sparks around his weapon; effectively sending it flying from his hands. He drew closer to throw a few punches at you. But you easily blocked his attacks.

When Lucian lifted his back foot to take a step closer to you, you hooked your foot around his front one and sent him toppling to the ground. Seeing your skill in combat, Kaecilius stepped over to admire his - _your_ \- work.

“Your talent for the mystic arts is undeniable, doctor,” he praised you. He patiently circled around you with his hands clasped behind his back.

“Why thank you. It helps that I have an impeccable teacher,” you assured him with a gentle nod of your head.

You outstretched your hand to help up your sparring partner. Lucian stood up and clasped the back of his neck in pain. Unfortunately for him, he was getting used to you kicking his ass. Even though he always tried new moves and attacks.

“Sometimes, I swear that you’re too good,” he laughed. 

“Mmm, maybe just too good for _you_ ,” you said with a playful wink. 

Kaecilius was more than impressed with your taking to the mystic arts. It’s like your body was made to breathe magic. You excelled in all of your studies and were especially skilled in hand-to-hand combat. You quickly surpassed even the best of your fellow Zealots. Your power was undeniable.

You grew closer to your mentor with every new spell learned and mystery of the Universe revealed. His generosity of knowledge continued to amaze you. Especially after spending most of your formal education in such a competitive environment. It seemed like he had nothing to hide and everything to give.

_However, this safety wasn’t meant to last._

Kaecilius watched as your powers grew exponentially. Not just in skill, but in strength as well. As he said all those months ago, you had a fighter’s spirit. Your devotion to your mission sowed a fertile field for your courage to blossom.

Over time, Kaecilius’ admiration for your gifts soured into intimidation. He knew that he would have to eventually perform the ritual to grant you access to dark dimensional energy. But he feared that once he did, you would easily overpower him. Kaecilius wasn’t sure if he could take that chance; knowing the multitude of possibilities for your future.

So instead of continuing to grant you limitless access to his knowledge and, in turn, support, he distanced himself in an attempt to stall your growth. What he didn’t realize was that this gesture of self preservation set the gears in motion for the future that he deeply feared.

One morning, you stood in the center of the training grounds panting after a particularly intense sparring session. You were surrounded by five of your fellow Zealots slowly rising to their feet; having effectively disarmed and beaten them all. 

You saw Kaecilius ominously watching you from a distance. His lurking in the shadows reminded you of the first time you met.

Recently, it seemed like the space between you two only grew in magnitude. It was a theme that infuriated you after doing this dance many times before. You thought that he was _different_. But maybe your initial judgments were wrong?

_If only you knew._

You marched over to finally confront him. Throwing out your arms in frustration, you aggressively asked him, “Kaecilius. When will I get access to the Dark Dimension? Everyone here can wield this magic but me.”

Kaecilius wrinkled his nose in agitation. He tried to stall this conversation as long as he could. But it appears he ran out to time. Avoiding your eye, he said, “You are not ready for it yet.”

“Not ready? Have you seen what I can do? What else do I need to do to prove myself to you?” you said angrily; gesturing to your comrades who you all beat in combat.

Upon your attack, Kaecilius looked you in the eye; daring you to challenge him further. He leaned in closely to your face and snarled, “You are ready when I say you are.”

You huffed out an agitated breath and turned on your heel to walk away. But before you could take your first step to escape his growing ego, Kaecilius placed a hand on your shoulder to turn you around to face him once more.

“And it’s _Master_ Kaecilius,” he growled lowly. Then he curtly turned to leave while you balled your hands into fists. Your fingernails left angered imprints on the palms of your hand.

That night, you stared at the ceiling while lying in bed. Even though you deeply respected your mentor, something about him changed in the past few months. You couldn’t fully pinpoint why.

Once his most valued student, you now felt like a great thorn in his side.

_A powerful, painful, threatening thorn._

What most frustrated you about this new dynamic was the constant need to prove yourself. It was a foreign feeling that left you unsettled. Something about this wasn’t right. Even in the wake of Stephen Strange, you never felt this way before. 

Sighing to yourself, you wondered what happened to the transparent, purposeful man who first enlisted you to his righteous cause. 

But instead of dwelling anymore, you decided to open your laptop to finish an email to Christine. Even as your reality completely flipped on its head, you were grateful that you were able to stay in touch with her.

Although you wished that you could tell her everything that happened to you, you knew that you had to be cautious and protect the details of your mysticism. Instead, you kept things simple to tell her that you moved for a fresh start and to find new meaning to your life.

_Technically, true._

You enjoyed your penpal friendship with Christine. Your emails covered a combination of generic life updates and, more frequently than not, consultations for some of her cases. You were grateful to maintain some connections to your previous life.

You wrote out your thoughts on two different surgical approaches that she could take for a patient who needed a second round of surgery for his feet. Right after hitting send on your email, you heard a gentle knock on your door. 

You closed your laptop and called out for your visitor to enter your room. To your surprise, the door opened to reveal Kaecilius in your doorway.

“I am sorry about my behavior earlier today,” he said calmly. His disposition was completely different. Something about him more closely resembled the mentor you once knew. 

_The mentor you once trusted._

While neither of you could see them, the cracks in the foundation of your relationship already etched their mark. They only needed time or a twist of fate to destroy your reality - once again.

“I am as well. I shouldn’t have lost my temper with you. It was disrespectful,” you apologized in turn. 

_Maybe things could go back to normal?_

“We get closer everyday to infiltrating the London Sanctum. I let the pressure get the best of me. And I wrongly took it out on you. Again, I am sorry,” he said.

“I know. I did the same. I’m just scared. I’m scared that I’m not prepared enough. Everyone else has access to dark dimensional energy. That magic is more powerful in the mirror dimension. And I would prefer to perform any combat there to minimize damage to the real world. I feel _behind_ and _exposed_ ,” you confessed.

“I understand. I don’t want you to feel like you’re at an unfair disadvantage. But there is a price that comes with dark dimensional energy. There are greater aspects to that ritual that you do not know. So I’m asking for your patience. And I’m asking you to trust me,” your teacher requested. 

This, honestly, was technically _true_. During your entire time at the compound, Kaecilius never told you about Dormammu or the demon’s promises for humanity. He knew what would happen if he did. He’d seen the possibilities before. Keeping you in the dark was an absolute necessity.

Kaecilius clasped his hands as he placed his elbows on his knees; leaning in closer to you. You evaluated his face and determined that there was nothing hiding in the canvas of his expression. He truly resembled the man who first came to help you _help Stephen_.

You nodded your head to give him your trust.

“Yes, Kaecilius. I trust you,” you said.

“Good. We’re breaching London tomorrow,” he confirmed.

Kaecilius quietly walked out of your room; leaving you to your thoughts. You wondered what would happen tomorrow, if things could go back to normal (whatever that meant), and when you’d see Stephen again. You prayed that you weren’t too late to save him.

That night, you had dreams of Stephen holding you in that shower all those years ago. Except in your dream, you didn’t just let him hold you. But you embraced him back; trying to imprint the feeling of his body on yours.

You woke up in the early hours of the morning to find your face wet with tears. While you wished you could go back to sleep, you knew that it was a moot point. So you settled for spending your time in meditation until Kaecilius gathered the Zealots to take down the London Sanctum.

To finally take down the Ancient One.


	6. Battered, Bleeding, Maybe Beating Hearts

Stephen, Wong, and Mordo stood in the library of Kamar-Taj. Wong told Stephen about Dormammu and the imminent threat that he was to Earth. Finally starting to put together the bigger picture, Stephen understood why Kaecilius stole the pages from the Book of Cagliostro.

Wong confirmed that the pages were used to contact Dormommu and draw power from the Dark Dimension.

“Okay, okay. I’m out. I came here to heal my hands. Not to fight in some mystical war,” Stephen told them. Wong stared at Stephen gravely. But before he could respond to Stephen’s selfishness, bells tolled to tell them that the London Sanctum was under attack.

The master of the London Sanctum came running through the portal to Kamar-Taj. Only to be stabbed in the back by one of the Zealots. Kaecilius created a tremendous explosion. In doing so, he destroyed the London Sanctum and sent Stephen flying through the portal that led to the New York Sanctum.

Only moments earlier, you were about to leave with the rest of the Zealots to take down the London Sanctum. You walked into the hallway from your room. But Kaecilius blocked you from joining the rest of your team.

“What are you doing?” you asked him.

“I need you to stay here,” he said firmly.

After telling you that the Zealots would take down the London Sanctum the night before, Kaecilius spent the rest of the evening questioning if you should go. He knew the battle could get bloody. Specifically, he knew that he and the other Zealots were willing to kill in the name of their mission.

You, on the other hand, always expressed your desire to cause minimum damage to others. You were a doctor after all. 

Kaecilius only needed you once all the Sanctums fell and he came face-to-face with the Ancient One. He needed the power you possessed; even if you didn’t yet fully understand it. Once the Ancient One left this earth (in body, mind, and soul) the only version of reality that you’d have to believe was his.

Knowing that your loyalty would shatter the moment you witnessed the true depths of his darkness, Kaecilius decided to make you stay put. Choosing to only call on your usefulness when he truly needed you.

“What? Are you serious? You told me just last night that we would breach London  _ together _ ,” you emphasized the last word with thinly-veiled agitation.

Kaecilius took a deep breath and placed a hand on your shoulder. His touch made your stomach churn.

“I know. But there is another energy at play that I did not expect. You said that you trust me, right?” he tilted his head as though he was testing you.

You hesitantly stammered as you tried to compile the events of the past few hours. Something about this felt  _ off _ . But you couldn’t pinpoint what it was. You looked at Kaecilius and quickly dismissed your nerves. Rationalizing that his behavior must, once again, be due to the pressure of his impending battle.

“Yes, I do,” you confirmed to his relief.

“Very well. I will send for you when we are ready,” Kaecilius instructed. Then, he turned around to walk over to the rest of the Zealots.

Lucian looked at you and tilted his head as if to ask you what just happened. But you shrugged and told him ‘I don’t know’ with your facial expression. You walked back to your room. Part of you hoped that maybe you could catch a few hours of sleep. But the rest of you knew that wasn’t going to happen. 

Instead, you settled for looking out the window and letting your mind wander through the depths of your memories. You thought about everything that happened since you arrived back in New York.

Seeing Stephen again. The accident with him. Befriending Christine. Seeing that magic was real. Learning from Kaecilius. And still, hoping, praying, begging the Universe with every breath that you weren’t too late to help Stephen.

While you initially thought you should do more productive with your time, you didn’t mind being enveloped by the tendrils of nostalgia. You hoped that you would get to see him sometime soon. And that he’d still be some semblance of the Stephen you knew.

Unbeknownst to you, at that moment, Kaecilius’ first words to you rang true. 

No, Stephen wasn’t thinking of you.

_ He had more...pressing matters at hand. _

Stephen desperately tried to run towards a set of weapons hanging on the wall in order to stop Kaecilius. But the Cloak of Levitation was determined to show him a better path. It quickly tired of Stephen’s attempt to go for brawn over brains and dragged him to the Crimson Bands of Cyttorak. Not completely sure what to do with them, but trusting the Cloak’s better knowledge, Stephen threw the Bands at Kaecilius and effectively immobilized him.

Tired of listening to Kaecilius’ mumbling, Stephen removed the muzzed and entertained the Zealot’s monologue. Kaecilius tried to convince Stephen that the Dark Dimension, a space beyond time, was salvation for humanity.

The only moment when Stephen’s interest was piqued was when Kaecilius used the very same words that he said to the Ancient One months ago.

“Tiny, momentary specks within an indifferent universe,” Kaecilius said; referring to the people he’s killed so far. The words haunted Stephen as a shadow of his former arrogance and assumption riddled perspective on the world. Kaecilius continued to try to recruit Stephen for his cause. Or at the very least, buy himself time.

_ Time. The great insult to all of humanity. _

But even as Kaecilius called out the Ancient One’s hypocrisy and identified how she used her tricks to lure Stephen into a war that he didn’t even know existed, Stephen refused to fall victim to the words of a  _ killer _ .

“Dormammu made you a murder. Just how good could his kingdom be?” Stephen challenged Kaecilius.

But to Stephen’s surprise and disgust, the corners of Kaecilius’ mouth upturned into a mischievous grin. 

“You think that’s funny?” Stephen asked with an aggressive tilt of his head.

“No, doctor. What’s funny is that you’ve lost your sling ring,” Kaecilius taunted.

Right as Stephen looked down to check if the words of this madman were correct, he was stabbed in the chest by Lucian who came running through a portal. Stephen limped off; barely able to escape Lucian’s attack. But succeeded with the help of the Cloak of Levitation.

Back at the Zealot’s homebase, you felt a chill crawl up your spine. You grew impatient with waiting. In hopes of easing your discomfort, you tried to sip some tea and meditate. But nothing could distract you from the impending feeling of dread in your stomach. While pacing in your room, you started questioning everything.

You were easily the most skilled fighter of the Zealots. So why would Kaecilius want you to stay back? Something was off about his energy and you couldn’t clearly identify it. Although, you were usually quite skilled at reading people. The mystery troubled you.

Thinking back to the weeks after you woke from your coma, you remembered how you thought someone was following you. Then how you dismissed that feeling. When, in reality, your body was telling you the truth all along.

You thought about Lucian and all the times that you kicked his ass in combat.  _ What if he came across a fighter who was just as skilled as you? Would he make it? _

Yes, you said that you trusted Kaecilius. But you had to trust yourself even more. 

With that fateful decision, you opened a portal to the London Sanctum. But peering through the gateway of your magic, you saw the entire place in ruins. One of your fellow Zealots walked by and flinched at the sight of the portal. But upon seeing you, she relaxed again.

“Is everyone okay? Where is Kaecilius?” you asked her.

“We successfully took down the London Sanctum. He and Lucian moved on to take down New York. But they’ve been gone a while. They should have been back by now,” she informed you. She frowned trying to calculate how much time passed since the two left.

_ Oh no. Not good. Not good news at all. _

“Do you have everything handled here?” you asked her; referring to the ruins of the London Sanctum.

She nodded in response.

“Good. I’m going to get them,” you said before closing the portal and opening another to New York.

Moments before your decision to follow Kaecilius and Lucian, Stephen hobbled through Metro-General screaming for Christine. In a blur, he suddenly found himself on a table with her as she tried to save him from his injury. 

Christine was surprised and confused when she saw Stephen. But she was even more shocked when he appeared in his astral form. She diligently did her best to save him while he fought Lucian on the astral plane. 

Finally, with the help of Christine, Stephen got the energy jolt that he needed and successfully defeated Lucian. The light, and life, extinguished from Lucian’ body in the hallway of the New York Sanctum, effectively erasing him from the fabric of the Earth.

As Christine stitched up Stephen, she mocked him for joining a cult. Stephen tried, but quickly gave up on explaining the truth of his mystical reality. Stephen gave Christine the beginning of the endless apology that he owed her. Then they sat in stillness as she finished his sutures. 

Finally, Christine decided to answer the question that she knew Stephen was wondering in the hollows of their silence.

“She’s alive, you know. And awake. She came out of the coma quite a few months ago. She...”

Stephen stared back at her blankly. He wasn’t sure if he deserved to know anything about you or the life you led after he...

“...left,” Christine continued. She bit her lip as she finished up the final stitch. “She wanted a fresh start. Found a new community, made new friends. She’s doing well she says.”

Christine cut the thread to complete her work on Stephen. He started to sit upright and she moved so that she was standing in front of him.

“She really wished you were here when she woke up. Never said it outright. But she did,” she said. Christine tilted her head and looked at him with a mixture of disappointment and sorrow.

That look alone killed Stephen.

He opened his mouth to speak. He wanted to defend his behavior or explain his actions. Anything except admit that there was nothing he could do now. But instead, he sighed and looked down at the floor before looking back up at Christine.

“I know,” he whispered. 

Even today, Stephen was still conflicted about leaving New York when you were in your coma. He knew that he burned so many bridges in his mad pursuit of salvation. The way he treated Christine and not being with you when you woke up, now knowing that you  _ did  _ wake up, were his greatest regrets.

It seemed like Stephen was getting used to those when it came to you. If only he could rewind time and instead

Call you like you deserved.   
Stay with you like you deserved.   
Love you like you deserved.

If only.

But he couldn’t get lost in the quicksand of his remorse. Stephen had to get back to the Sanctum and figure out what the fuck was going on. Whether he liked it or not, he was just initiated into this mystical battle against the darkness. He was on the front lines.

What Stephen didn’t know was that you just arrived at the Sanctum. Your body moved through the very air where he stood only moments ago.

You cautiously tread through the hallway of the New York Sanctum. The floorboards gently whined under the weight of each of your steps. Every sound made your heart race faster. You didn’t know who - or what - you might awaken with your presence.

You turned a corner and all of time stopped when you saw the scene before you. 

There was a body. Dressed in maroon robes. 

_ Just like yours. _

Your legs threw you to the floor as you bent over on your knees to identify the person laying before you.

Lucian.

_ No,no. Not Lucian. Not now. No. _

With a pained gulp, you placed two fingers to his neck to check his pulse. Although you already knew that you would feel no heartbeat to meet your touch. Tears started to well in your eyes. You bit your lip as the beating of your own, very much living, heart nearly consumed you whole.

_ How could Kaecilius not have let you come with them? You could have prevented this from happening. Why couldn’t he trust you like you trusted him? _

No, you couldn’t lose it. You couldn’t afford to get lost in the chaos of your emotions. There was a murderer afoot.

As if the Universe heard your thoughts, your grief was interrupted by the sound of distant footsteps. You snapped your head up from Lucian’s body to see a tall figure in blue robes cautiously lurking down the hallway. 

It had to be his killer.

In a blind rage, you flung the entirety of your body at the man who murdered your friend. He quickly glanced over just long enough to confirm that someone was chasing after him. Seeing your maroon robes, he started running. But this killer’s pace was no match for the anguish that coursed through your veins. 

As much as you tried to fight them, your eyes started streaming tears of fury. You sprang off the ground and pounced on him from behind. In the midst of your despair, you didn’t think about your magic for what you were going to do next. In fact, you weren’t even sure  _ what  _ you would do next. But you had to avenge your fallen friend.

Your bodies hit the floor with a thud that reverberated through the Sanctum. You quickly overpowered your victim and straddled your legs over his waist and flipped him onto his back. 

_ He would have to see your face and pain that he created. _

But to your complete shock and horror, your eyes were met with a face that you least expected to see.

“ _ S-S-Stephen! _ ” you cried out. Your nostrils flared as you became overwhelmed by shock. Still breathing heavily from your chase, you placed your hands on either side of his head. As you leaned in to ensure that your eyes weren’t playing tricks on you, you pressed your weight even deeper into his body. 

His hair was garnished with grey and he sported new facial hair. Something about his face changed. As if he matured in aesthetic and in heart. If circumstances were different, you might have completely fallen in love with him all over again.

_ But your circumstances were not, in fact, different. _

Instead, you weren’t sure if you could believe the facts that reality just presented to you. Lucian was dead. And Stephen Strange was the one who killed him.

Stephen’s eyes darted from your face to your robes and back to your face again. He opened his mouth in shock, “W-w-what are you doing here? And why are you dressed...oh my gosh, you’re - you're working for Kaecilius? But why?” 

“To save  _ your _ dumb ass!”

Stephen let out an agitated scoff; clearly not caring about the vulnerable position he was in. He narrowed his eyes skeptically and said, “What makes you think that I need saving?”

“The Ancient One. She’s manipulating you. Making promises of healing and salvation. But she’s just using you to further her own agenda. She can’t heal your hands, Stephen,” you pleaded.

At the mention of his hands, Stephen gulped anxiously. But when his eyes softened, you leaned back and swung your leg over his waist; allowing the both of you to stand up.

“No, you’re wrong,” Stephen said less harshly than you ever expected those words to leave his lips. He shook out his shoulder to readjust to being upright; still in pain from his recovering injury. “Kaecilius. He’s dangerous. He’s trying to bring a dark dimensional being to take over Earth.”

You blinked rapidly and shook your head. “No, he’s not. He’s here to stop the Ancient One from taking advantage of desperate people,” you corrected Stephen.

Stephen looked at your face and for the first time, consciously realized that it looked like it always had. Beautiful and natural. You didn’t have the same markings as Kaecilius and the rest of the Zealots. He gradually started piecing things together.

“He...he hasn’t told you about Dormammu?” he asked you with genuine curiosity in his voice.

“Dor-what? No. I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you retorted.

“Kaecilius is leading you down the wrong path. Please, you have to trust me,” Stephen said. He gently raised his hands in surrender to emphasize the importance of what he said. They almost reached out to touch your arms. But he thought better of it.

This was the first glimpse you got of his scars. Although now was not the time to linger your gaze.

Stephen said your name with a mixture of tenderness and fear that you never heard from his voice before. 

_ Who were you supposed to trust? Your respected mentor? Or the man who could make your heart stop beating with a single look? Where did the manipulation end and reality begin? _

“Stephen, from where I’m standing, you’re the one in danger. This woman turned you into a murder. You  _ killed _ my friend. What happened to the oath that we took?” you asked him.

Stephen looked down at the floor in remorse. He couldn’t believe that you said the exact words he spoke to Kaecilius in that very same spot. Stephen closed his eyes in anguish and responded, “I didn’t want to kill him. But I had to or he would have killed me.”

“Lucian? No, he would never have attacked  _ you _ . We’re here to take away the Ancient One,” you said.

But before Stephen could respond and tell you his side of the story, you heard voices in the entryway of the Sanctum. You and Stephen rushed to the edge of the balcony to see Kaecilius and the other Zealots on the first level. Right as you were about to leap off the railing to join them, Stephen grabbed your hand to stop you.

“Don’t make me do this,” he pleaded. His eyes lingered on your face for a luxurious moment. For an instant, it felt like the two of you had all the time in the world. But you quickly broke from his spell and withdrew your hand from his; feeling the roughness of his scars as your touch escaped his grasp.

“You’re the one who made your choice, Stephen. You became a killer. I have to help you come back from this,” you said before leaping to the other side and reuniting with your teacher.

Stephen’s breath hitched at the sight of you standing next to Kaecilius. He had to stop this man from destroying you. He had to save you from his manipulation and lies.

Even if it was the only time that he ever did right by your battered, bleeding heart.

Hoping, praying, and begging the Universe that part of it still beat for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buckle up, kids. Because the next chapter will take you for a ride.


	7. Twist of Fate

Kaecilius relished the sight of you leaping over that balcony to join him. He released a sigh of relief; effectively masking it as courage. Knowing your strength was by his side and your loyalty was untainted, he summoned a golden orb of energy to destroy the second Sanctum of that day.

Having just arrived, Mordo ran to the balcony next to Stephen. He leaped over the edge with the graceful help of the Vaulting Boots of Valtorr.

“Strange! Get down here and fight!” he called out.

Stephen’s eyes glanced around trying to take in everything that unfolded before him. He had to stop Kaecilius. But he didn’t want to hurt you in the process. Yet, if you continued to remain loyal to the leader of the Zealots, Stephen sensed your fate would be far worse than any injury you’d get in the crossfire.

Mordo fought with two of your fellow Zealots on the other side of Kaecilius. But they quickly overpowered him and pinned him against a wall. You watched as Stephen tried to calculate his next move. Then, like many times before, you saw that glimmer of smug certainty flash behind his eyes.

Floating through the air with the Cloak of Levitation, Stephen cast a spell to trap everyone in the Mirror Dimension. His voice echoed through the hollows of your new battleground.

“The Mirror Dimension. You can’t affect the real world in here. Who’s laughing now... _asshole_?”

_No, no, no. Stephen. There you go thinking you know everything about the inner workings of the Universe. What have you done?_

But this was good for Kaecilius. This was good for your team because everyone could draw more dark dimensional energy now.

_Everyone except for you._

Kaecilius gave Stephen a sneering grin before speaking to him with even greater confidence than before.

“I am.”

Then, the world before you transformed.

It all happened so fast. So unbelievably fast.

Kaecilius manipulated this dimension with complete ease. Once sturdy stairs folded into themselves and the surrounding walls blended together. Your breathing became more shallow as your heart rate increased. You took a step back with stiff, unwilling muscles. You didn’t know what Kaecilius would do next. 

Stephen’s eyes darted around as they watched his entire environment transform at the whim of Kaecilius. Finally seeing the look on your face, the blood from his completely drained.

_Oh god. What did he do?_

Mordo’s jaw dropped before he quickly freed himself from the other Zealots. He and Stephen dashed out of the Sanctum to stand right outside the door.

Kaecilius turned to face them. Ready to lead the rest of the Zealots in their next trial of combat. But you remained frozen in place.

_Wait, the target was the Sanctum. Not Stephen. Why would they run after him?_

As if he heard the curiosity of your mind, Stephen looked at Mordo.

“I got his sling ring. They can’t escape, right?”

But as Kaecilius took a fateful step towards them, Mordo only shouted for them to run.

_Yes, Kaecilius was after Stephen for his sling ring. He wouldn’t hurt Stephen. It wasn’t part of his mission. Not after he recruited you as the one who could save him._

_...right?_

You rushed to catch up with the rest of the Zealots. Only to find the outside world in complete disarray.

No structure. No continuity. No logic.

Just chaos.

The world was torn apart and pieced together. Executing the vision of a drunken madman.

Stephen and Mordo ran through the street as the Mirror Dimension broke apart and reconfigured its design. They narrowly avoided cars while Stephen desperately tried to conjure a portal. Yet, the two sorcerers were thrown into the side of a bus when Kaecilus bent these pseudo laws of physics to his will.

While your fellow Zealots walked through the Mirror Dimension with ease, you stumbled around like an inebriated fool. As you chased Stephen and Mordo up the side of a building, Kaecilius sent an energy pulse through the structure. To his pleasure, this simple act thwarted Stephen’s second attempt to summon a portal.

What Kaecilius didn’t notice was how this wave of instability sent you flying from the side of the building. With a graceless thud, you landed back on the street. Only it appeared that _you_ were the one who was upside down.

_Your whole world felt upside down._

You spun in circles trying to reorient yourself. You looked up - or was it down? - to see Stephen still running alongside the building. Thankfully, he was easy to identify by the trails of his maroon cloak. But before you could jump back to catch up with your friends, the building split in two and collapsed in on itself.

Once again, at the mercy of the Mirror Dimension, you went flying through the air. With little care, the grate of a fire escape caught your fall; knocking the wind out of your lungs. Even if the Ancient One didn’t beat you to shit, the city might do that for you.

You started running to follow Kaecilius and Stephen; not totally sure who you would rather catch up with first. Pieces of steel appeared below your feet as you ran. The only thing moving faster than your legs was the beating of your heart.

Kaecilius finally caught up to Stephen. Running upside down on the underside of Stephen’s path, he turned upright to face him. He flipped Stephen onto his back and grabbed his throat. The act of aggression made your breath hitch. Even as you felt like you were running out of air trying to meet them.

When Kaecilius retrieved his sling ring from Stephen’s robes, a wave of relief washed over you.

_Good. You can finally go back, destroy the Sanctum, and move onwards._

But as you continued running to reunite with your mentor, he performed the magic that drew you into his manipulation from day one. Kaecilius drew out a space shard and lifted his arm backward, ready to plunge it into Stephen’s heart.

“NO!”

You shrieked out a cry in unparalleled anguish. You sent out an energy pulse to break apart their platform and send Stephen floating into the distance. With a new wave of adrenaline pumping through your body, you ran full speed ahead.

Right past Kaecilius.

Right past the baffled expression on his stupid fucking face.

Right past the lies and deceptions.

The cracks of mistrust finally gave way. Your loyalty completely broke under the weight of your complete and utter betrayal. Every tug of your gut rang true as you realized that he was using you all along.

Your entire world finally turned right side up.

You leaped off the edge of Kaecilius’s platform to reconcile with Stephen. The air against your skin felt like your final salvation as you soaked in your newfound freedom.

Bringing you back to the way things should be.

Back to him.

With a clank of boots on metal, you collapsed next to Stephen. You knelt down beside him as you panted to catch your breath. Still partially lying down, he let out a few coughs to recover from Kaecilius choking him.

After a few breaths, you met each other’s eyes.

“Thank you,” he managed to breathe out.

“Stephen. You were right. You were right about everything.”

“I know.”

Stephen let his head fall back as he relished this brief moment of safety. He reached out to firmly grab your hand. The certainty in his touch sent sparks along your skin.

“And I’m sorry for that,” he said.

Stephen turned his head to look into your eyes. His pupils dilated and the muscles in his face relaxed. Unconsciously, your body mirrored the same. You leaned forward and the space between you narrowed.

But this moment of tenderness quickly dissolved as your metal platform raised to become one with a larger one. A woman in golden robes, the Ancient One, started constructing a new battlefield around you. You and Stephen jumped to your feet. With a wave of her hand, she sent you and Stephen to the outskirts of your new platform. 

Clearing the path for her and Kaecilius to come face-to-face once again. 

Stephen protectively placed his arms around you as you watched your two mentors. They walked circles around each other like prowling tigers. Completely convinced of his righteousness, Kaecilius growled at the Ancient One.

“I came to you broken, lost, in need. I trusted you to be my teacher. And you fed me lies.”

_Wait, whose story was he really telling?_

“I tried to protect you,” she responded calmly.

“From the truth?”

“From yourself.”

You pressed your back closer to Stephen’s chest. It pained you to see your story reflected back to you. And from the last person in the world you wanted to identify with.

“Dormammu deceives you. You have no idea what he truly is. His eternal life is not paradise. But torment.”

Then, as if he were speaking for both of you, Kaecilius turned to face the Ancient One.

“Liar,” he snarled.

The Zealots stepped closer to their leader to prepare for their attack. He withdrew a space shard and lunged at the Ancient One. But she easily evaded the advances of the Zealots; maneuvering her shields as both protection and weapons against Kaecilius.

Your body started shaking as you watched the fight in front of you. You had to do something. But Stephen didn’t move.

_Why wasn’t he moving?_

While the Ancient One was fighting one of your, _no_ the, Zealots, Kaecilius slipped his fingers into his sling ring. You leaned forward in anticipation. But Stephen’s hands gripped tighter around you. You could feel the rate of his breathing increasing.

Kaecilius strutted over to the Ancient One and opened a portal to the real world behind her. He manifested a space shard into his hands and clasped it with an unforgiving grip. The deadly look in his eyes triggered your body to charge forward. You were too fast for Stephen’s hands to hold you back.

Jumping into the air, you kicked your former teacher square in the chest with all the force you could muster. The Universe must have been on your side because Kaecilius went flying off the platform.

But, to your great regret, you were not fast enough. In the final seconds of his stable footing, Kaecilius threw his space shard and stabbed the Ancient One. The impact sent her flying through the portal and crashing back into the real world.

You whipped your head around to see Stephen and Mordo in total shock. You started running to leap through the portal to follow after her. Your movement instigated them to come with you.

You rushed into the ER with Stephen. As he shouted for Christine, she rolled her eyes. 

_What had he gotten himself into this time?_

But upon seeing _both of you_ alongside the gurney with the Ancient One, she jumped backward in shock. The three of you stormed into the operating room with a small team of nurses. All of them were confused by what was going on. They were especially curious about seeing two of their formerly esteemed doctors returning to the hospital in such a state. 

In the prep area, you threw on some scrubs, washed your hands, and adorned them in gloves. Not giving a damn about your hospital privileges. Or more accurately, lack thereof.

You picked up a scalpel to relieve the pressure in her brain. But before you could even touch the instrument to her flesh, your patient flatlined. Christine rushed to begin CPR.

You saw Stephen’s astral form separate from his body to chase after that of his mentor. Even though you could go with them, you knew that your energy was better spent trying to save her physical body.

She had to live. She just had to. 

Christine continued CPR compressions.

But time pressed forward.

_One minute, two minutes, three._

Your mind wondered what Stephen and the Ancient One were talking about. But you quickly wrangled your thoughts back in. This wasn’t the time for unbridled curiosity. You had to save this woman. 

When she was alive, you could ask her more about her for yourself.

More compressions.

_Four, five, six._

Please. Please stay alive.

_Seven, eight, nine._

Don’t die on me. Don’t die on Stephen. Don’t die.

_Ten._

No, no no no no.

Despite your best efforts, there was nothing you or Christine could do to revive the Ancient One. With the prolonged beeping of her flatline ringing in your ears, you looked down to see her lifeless eyes. They left you wondering what they would look like staring back at you.

Through trembling lips, you called the time of death. 

You looked up at the ceiling and closed your own life-filled eyes in agony. Christine gingerly placed a hand on your shoulder.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, “Did you know her?”

You hung your head in sorrow; refusing to open your eyes. 

“No. Not at all.”

You removed your gloves and threw them onto a nearby tray. Then stalked out of the room without another word.

Back in the prep area, you held the edge of the metal sinks with a grip that cramped your palms. Your breathing increased in pace as you tried to swallow the growing lump in your throat. But it wouldn’t budge.

You let out a guttural cry in a feeble attempt to release the pressure from your body. But the use of your voice made you nauseous. The number of times your reality flipped finally started to catch up with you. You flung yourself back from the sinks; ready to collapse into a useless heap on the floor.

But a pair of arms caught you as you stumbled backward.

_Like they always seemed to do._

You spun around and buried your face in Stephen’s chest. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer to him. 

_What a day._

As your body shook to the rhythm of your sobs, Stephen rested his face against the top of your head. A few of his own tears softly fell into your hair to mingle with your sweat, blood, and anguish.

Your fingers weakly clenched the lapels of his robes. Even with the trembling of his hands, Stephen’s thumbs traced small, indistinguishable shapes along your back; trying to offer you any solace he could.

“S-S-Stephen. I’m so, I’m so -”

“You don’t have to. It’s not your fault.”

“But I, I -”

“Did everything you could to save her.”

You turned your face back into his chest and cried. How could the last few years manage to feel so _long_? It never seemed to end.

You weren’t sure how much time you spent sobbing into Stephen. But eventually, your shaking slowed down. The remnants of your emotional day gradually reduced to the feeling of your breath palpating through your body.

Stephen lifted his face from your hair to place a devout kiss on top of your head; closing his eyes and furrowing his brow as he did. He withdrew his body from yours to create just enough space so he could gently wrap his hands around your face. Then, he tilted your head ever so gently to look into your breathtaking eyes.

As his thumb stroked along the surface of your cheekbones, Stephen opened his mouth as if to say something. But there were no words for what he wanted to communicate to you.

_Thankfully, he didn’t need them._

Instead, he leaned in to kiss your face where your tears still glistened. You softly closed your eyes to surrender to his touch. The softness of his skin contrasted the harshness of the day. You allowed your eyelids to barely flutter, but never open.

Stephen continued to place his lips along your cheeks. Timidly at first. But his devotion grew each time the surface of his skin reunited with yours. He attended to every place your tears touched; carefully adorning the canvas of your face with all the tenderness he could. Your arms wrapped around his waist as you pulled him closer to you. 

While he knew that he couldn’t take away your pain, Stephen Strange kissed your tears as if he could. Knowing full well that it wasn’t his job to cure your heart of all that it’s been through. But willingly accepting the position with open arms.

In time, he placed a kiss alongside the corner of your mouth. But broke from his pace at the near touch of your lips. Stephen gently leaned his forehead against yours and closed his eyes. He needed no magic to share what was on his mind and in his heart. 

He slowly leaned into you. Somehow managing to stretch out every moment in time as he narrowed the already minuscule distance between you. When he was close enough to you to breathe the same air, he barely brushed his lips against yours. But quickly pulled away with a sharp inhale.

If you didn’t know better, you wouldn’t have known he touched the surface of your lips. But fortunately, you did, in fact, know better. You knew _him_ better.

Stephen swallowed and looked down at the floor. He bit the bottom of his lip; afraid to get used to the feeling of your skin upon it. But you placed a hand along the side of his face and lifted it so he could take in yours.

“You have always been worth my time.” 

You placed one hand on the back of his neck and tangled the other in the thick of his hair; using your grip as gentle leverage to pull him closer to you. You placed your lips to his with the same tenderness, kindness, and care that Stephen Strange absolutely loved about your beautiful, brilliant heart.

Your kiss started slowly. But quickly deepened; completely absent of hurry and greed. You each closed your eyes as you surrendered yourselves to the magic of this precious moment in time. 

Finally physically united as your hearts have always been.

Stephen poured his love into you with every brush of his lips, delicate nibble of yours, and skilled maneuver of his tongue. For the first time in his life, he allowed himself to completely love without caution. He cherished the feeling of loving you generously as you have always done for him.

As he opened his heart to love you deeper, Stephen also paved the way to let in even more of yours. The kindness of your soul filled the cracks and crevices; allowing the bandages of his ego to softly fall away as ghosts of the past.

The salvation of your mutual, unrelenting affection allowed the longing hearts of your younger selves to finally rest in peace.

Stephen kissed you like there was nothing but the present. Yet, he simultaneously compressed over a decade of unexpressed devotion into this single moment in time. You matched him every step of the way in passion and love. Deepening your kiss and exploring the surface of his lips, tongue, and teeth as new territory for you to appreciate and delight in.

Oh, how you loved the feeling of shamelessly loving Stephen Strange with every fiber of your certainly beating heart. And how he, in turn, felt the same towards you.

Finally, you separated your lips from his with the utmost care. Placing a hand on the side of his face, you pulled him back in to press your forehead against his once again.

Both of you were utterly speechless. But for the first time since you met this man, the silence did your love justice. Now that you finally freed it from the shadows.

After a few shared deep breaths, Stephen withdrew his head so he could look into your eyes. He took your hands in his and smiled at the sight of your radiant glow. Then, he hoarsely said the words you were both thinking.

“About time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We will diverge from the movie now. Stephen will not use the time stone to defeat Dormammu. I am so.fucking.sick.of.infinity.stones. Not that I'm bitter at all. He's got something else up his sleeve. Can't wait to see what happens next!


	8. Medical Wizards Abound

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading this far with me :) I might slow down my publishing pace a smidge while I collect more inspiration. But we are _for sure_ finishing this journey together!

Stephen briskly strode through the library at Kamar-Taj. The ends of the Cloak of Levitation caught air behind his determined pace. 

After you sent Kaecilius flying through the Mirror Dimension, you knew it would take some time for him to regroup with the Zealots. But you also knew that your time was limited. You had to come up with a strategy to stop them from summoning Dormammu.

After Stephen confirmed with Wong that the Hong Kong Sanctum was still intact and safely guarded, he took you both to Kamar-Taj. He said there was a particular ritual that you needed to find.

As you walked through the training grounds, you couldn’t help but wonder what might have happened if you learned to harness your mystic powers alongside Stephen and with the guidance of his teacher.

_Instead of the one that Fate handed to you._

But instead of reminiscing too much, you stayed close to the trail of Stephen’s heels as he sped through his familiar territory. 

In the library, he abruptly stopped at the aisle that contained the Ancient One’s private collection. Although it now belonged to any sorcerers skilled enough to bear the power that the volumes contained. Fumbling with the chains, he released the Book of Cagliostro from its residence amongst the endless pages of knowledge.

He firmly placed the book on a table with a soft thud. You stood across from him, watching as he quickly flipped through the pages. His eyes rapidly scanned each one with equal diligence and speed.

Mere moments before her departure from this earth, the Ancient One floated with Stephen on a balcony in their astral forms. She patiently enjoyed the last moments of her existence; knowing that she would go no further than that moment in time. 

However, she took it upon herself to impart one final lesson to Stephen. Giving him everything she could to set him up for success in _his_ future.

“I never saw your future, only it’s possibilities. You always excelled. But not because you crave success. But because of your fear of failure.”

“It’s what made me a great doctor,” he replied with certainty.

“It’s precisely what kept you _from_ greatness. Arrogance and fear still keep you from learning the simplest, most important lesson of all.”

“Which is?”

Stephen tilted his head with curiosity. This woman never seemed to stop changing his perception of reality _and himself_. The Ancient One broke her gaze from the skyline to look at Stephen; ensuring that he would soak in the significance of her words.

“It’s not about you.”

She turned her head back to resume looking into the distance. Stephen glanced down and furrowed his brow as he tried to put the pieces together. Helping him along, the Ancient One continued.

“You’re not meant to do it alone. You never were. Your ego has protected you from the risk of rejection, casting out anyone who got close. But it can protect you no further. It’s time to open your heart and let the world in...to let _another_ in.”

Stephen snapped his head back up to look at her; knowing _exactly_ to whom she referred. His voice wavered as he asked the question his heart always wondered, but he was never strong enough to vocalize.

“What if she doesn’t want me?”

The Ancient One softly smiled; appreciating this rarely seen vulnerability from him. Yet, she also grieving that she’d never get the chance to see it flourish.

“But what if she does?” she asked. “You fear acceptance just as much as you fear failure. Perhaps even more. Because then you’ll have something to lose. These fears leave you stuck in an eternal bind. You cannot fail or succeed. Instead, you’re trapped in a sliver of reality that offers no potential for growth, no fruit to bear. Only through opening your heart can you truly unlock the secrets of the Universe that you so deeply crave.”

Stephen narrowed his eyes skeptically. He took a few breaths to try to process everything she told him.

“Okay, but how will _the power of_ _love_ stop Kaecilius? Stop Dormammu?”

He didn’t want to be disrespectful, but his question contained a hint of mockery. This was no fairytale after all. 

“Ever since Agomotto, the position of Sorcerer Supreme has been held by a single person. However, in a world that becomes more complicated by the moment, we knew there would come a time when that would have to change. In order to bring the world back into balance, we would one day need _two_ Sorcerers Supreme.”

“So she and I are supposed to—”

“Protect reality _together_.”

Stephen’s eyes grew wide upon understanding what the Ancient One was telling him. To him, the polarity of your relationship always felt like the repellent that broke you two apart. But perhaps, it's the magnetism that will ultimately draw you together.

“You were never meant to save each other. But to save _the world_ together _._ Bringing the world to balance requires the connection of two souls who can fully accept the light _and_ the darkness. Two minds, hearts, and souls that can fully embody the complex duality of life. 

“We are taught to fear the darkness. When what we really fear is the unknown that lurks within the shadows. We fear the cruelty, pain, and suffering that can come with darkness, calling it evil. But the darkness itself is not dangerous to us. By accepting your own darkness, by facing and accepting your pain, you can control it. Instead of letting it control you.

“Both of you have such a capacity for goodness. Together, you are strong enough to be with your darkness, while not getting lost in the pursuit of the light. You need her openness, flexibility, and trust. While she needs your diligence, strength, and caution. Only by accepting your joint power will you have access to the Duality Dimension, a realm where the lightness and darkness coexist in harmony.”

Stephen’s thoughts started racing as he tried to fully comprehend everything he heard. _Duality Dimension? Light and darkness? Protecting reality? Could you both really do this? Would you even want to? Especially with him?_

“So what am I, what are _we_ , supposed to do next?”

“As with everything in life, you have a choice. But if you _both_ accept this, you’ll find everything you need amongst the pages of the Book of Cagliostro. Where it all began.”

She gently wrapped her hand around Stephen’s; cherishing these final moments of connection.

“It’s true that if you love, you have something to lose. But there is magic in all phases of love, including loss. Knowing the other person can leave at any time, by choice or by fate, is what gives love, and thus life, meaning.

“You’d think I would have learned that better after all this time. But then again, that’s your journey. Not mine.”

With a final breath, the Ancient One softly released Stephen’s hand from her grip. He looked down at the feeling of her hand disconnecting from his. But when he looked back up she was gone.

Her words rang in his ears back in the library at Kamar-Taj. After passing the missing pages that Kaecilius stole, Stephen arrived upon the ritual that the Ancient One told him about. Upon reading the title, he looked back up at you without saying a word.

“Found what you’re looking for?” you asked with a tilt of your head.

“Yes, this is how we can stop them...”

His voice trailed off as he quickly glanced down at the page then back at you. 

“And?”

“It needs something from us.”

“Like what?” 

You walked over to the other side of the table to properly have a look. Stephen took a step back to allow you closer access. As you leaned in, he protectively placed his hand on the small of your back.

You weren’t sure what to expect from this spell that Stephen furiously searched for. But it certainly wasn’t this.

The Duality Dimension.

_Soul binding ritual._

The goal of the spell was to give two people access to the energy of the Duality Dimension. It was a place where you were everything and nothing. Together and alone. Impermanent and eternal. Light and dark. 

Opposing forces in perfect balance. Neither hungering to conquer the other nor shrinking away in fear. 

If successful in its completion, the ritual allowed you to possess the power to bring this balance into the real world or bring elements from the real world into the Duality Dimension.

_Whatever that actually meant practically._

The only “ingredient” the ritual required was two willing people who would bind their souls together. As it, by its very name, needed duality in return.

Stephen watched your face as you read through the spell. He tried to read into every shift in your eyes, calculate the meaning when you bit your lip, and extrapolate your feelings about the words on the page before you.

After skimming through the ritual, you took a step back so you could turn to face him. He removed his hand from your back and nervously swallowed; anxiously awaiting your thoughts.

“It seems simple enough. She told you that we should use this?” you asked; referring to his departed teacher.

Stephen cleared his throat and readjusted his posture to stand straighter. He looked you in the eyes and failed to speak as assertively as he hoped.

“Uh, y-yes.”

“Then we have to do this.”

Stephen blinked rapidly; instantly skeptical of your open willingness to bind your soul to his. _Were you serious? Or would you regret your hasty decision?_

He glanced back down at the table and started fidgeting with the book. His hands trembled as he tried to flip the page. Truthfully, he didn’t know if it was from the nerves of his body or his heart.

“Let’s just take a moment to think this over and make sure we have all the information. They always put the warnings at the end of these damned things,” he said with a nervous laugh; avoiding all eye contact with you.

You gently placed your hand over his and his shaking stopped instantly. Lifting your other hand to the side of his face, you turned his head so that he had to look at you.

“What’s going on?” you asked him softly.

“Nothing. It’s nothing. We’re just running out of time.”

“C’mon. You know that I’m fluent in Strange facial undertones. Even if you are sporting a new look,” you said playfully stroking the edge of his goatee. “What’s going on?”

Taking a deep breath, Stephen let his shoulders relax. Once again, allowing not just his body, but his heart to open up to you.

“Do you really want to do this?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Are you sure? Because this isn’t just coffees and crystals. It’s bigger than that. Bigger than _us._ ”

His voice hollowed out upon saying that last word. It felt like such a foreign way to refer to the two of you. Even if it was in the context of this ritual and not your relationship; whatever that even was.

“Because if you don’t want this,” he gestured to the book, “We’ll find another way.”

“Stephen.”

His name left your lips with the fondness that he longed for since the beginning of your friendship. You drew one hand around his waist and pulled him closer to you. Using the other, you gently stroked his hair and waited for him to meet your gaze again. When his eyes were reconnected with yours, you continued.

“I want _you_. Always have, always will. My love for you is—”

“Timeless,” he whispered.

You smiled and nodded. Then placed a tender kiss on his cheek. 

“Even if we weren’t fighting an interdimensional demon and asshole cult leader, would you still do this?” you asked in return.

Stephen let out a soft chuckle. You knew him. You knew him so well. Of course he would do anything it takes to not fail the task at hand. Possibly to his own detriment.

“Yes,” he confirmed.

You wrapped your hand around the back of his neck and pulled him into a kiss. This one was gentler than the last, but equally matched in affection and devotion.

_Yes, you could really get used to kissing Stephen Strange._

After pulling your lips apart, you glanced back at the Book of Cagliostro.

“So, what do the warnings on these look like anyway?”

Stephen cleared his throat and blinked firmly; still in a slight daze after your kiss. He let out a soft laugh and leaned back over the page to read the final commentary on the ritual.

The ritual to access the Duality Dimension.

The ritual to defeat Dormammu and Kaecilius.

The ritual to bind your souls together on the mystic level.

_Even beyond the emotional and the physical._

You watched as his eyes grew wide and his face paled. You tilted your head towards him in anticipation of what he just read.

“Stephen, what is it?”

He continued to read the page in silence. You crossed your arms and leaned against the table as you waited for him to finish. Finally, he looked up at you gravely.

“We have to have an unbreakable soul connection. If we don’t and we perform the ritual, we’ll, well, we’ll die.”

You uncrossed your arms and shot upright. You placed your hand under your chin and glanced down at the floor. After pausing for a moment to ensure that you heard him correctly, you looked back at Stephen.

“We have to have a soul connection?”

“Yes.”

“An _unbreakable_ soul connection?”

“Yes.”

“Do you have any idea what that means?”

“No.”

“You were right. They really should put these warnings at the beginning.” you said. “And maybe add a glossary.”

He looked down and shook his head as he laughed softly. How you could bring such lightness to a dark situation like this, he might never understand. 

_Then again, maybe that’s exactly why you were there standing with him._

You outstretched your arms to take his hands in yours. As you gently smiled at him, he mirrored the same. The words of the Ancient One echoed in his mind.

_You need her openness, flexibility, and trust. While she needs your diligence, strength, and caution._

“Sometimes, you’re just inescapable, Stephen Strange.”

“It’s a great—”

“Blessing to love you.”

Stephen looked down and blushed. To the untrained eye, the flush of his cheeks might have been imperceptible. But you, as you self-proclaimed, were fluent in every detail of his face. He was willing and eager to get used to your affection.

“So,” you said, “Are you willing to be tethered to me for the rest of eternity? Or die trying?”

“Yes.”

With your hand in his, you and Stephen walked to the front of the library. You looked into his eyes and nodded for him to begin; following his lead with the help of his photographic memory.

Stephen raised his hands to begin creating shapes of sacred geometry. You mirrored his movements to paint the air with the beauty of your orange sparks. Your magic danced, intertwined, and got lost in his. Soon, neither of you knew which gleaming spell belonged to you or to him.

Then, you started your incantations together.

“I swear by the energies of lightness and darkness, and all beings who have lived before me and who shall live after, that, according to my ability and judgement, I will keep this Oath, contract, and binding.”

_This sounded familiar. Like maybe you’ve heard it somewhere before?_

“To hold he who I bind myself to as equally dear to me as my family, to be a partner in life with him, and to fulfill his needs as required.”

As your hands continued to manipulate your magic, your combined sparks grew simultaneously brighter and dimmer. The highlights shone through and the shadows deepened in color. 

”Most especially must we tread with care in matters of life and death. If it is given us to save a life, all thanks. But it may also be within our power to take a life; this awesome responsibility must be faced with great humbleness and awareness of our own frailty. Above all, we must not play the role of the Divine.”

By now, Stephen was smiling through and through. He knew exactly what you were saying together. If there was any doubt in his mind that you two were going to die doing this ritual, it was completely lost to the past.

This was destiny. Two souls brought together by an unbreakable connection.

“In purity and according to divine law will we carry out our art and our lives. Wherever we go, we enter to help those in need, avoiding any impropriety or corruption.”

_Oh my gosh. Was this really? Was it really?_

You reached out to place your right hand on Stephen’s chest; directly over his heart. He, in turn, did the same for you. Then you each placed your left hands on top of the other’s right. 

Now binding your body, hearts, and souls. 

“For we will first **_do no harm_ **.”

Yes, you and Stephen Strange were saying the Hippocratic Oath. An oath to bring balance to the Universe, to the world, and to each other. An oath that bound the two of you together and to the promise that you made to humanity all those years ago.

“We will remember that we remain a member of society, with special obligations to all our fellow beings, those sound of mind and body as well as the infirm. May we always act so as to preserve the finest traditions of our calling and may we long experience the joy of bringing balance, healing, and help to those who seek us.”

Upon the last words of the incantation leaving your lips, the conglomerate mess of your sparks completely melted into one. It now resembled the appearance of molten metal. 

Then, as you and Stephen took deep breaths in utter awe, it gradually changed its color. The lighter tones turned to a brilliant, blazing white. The darker hues deepened to a velvet blackness that looked like it was stripped from the night sky.

The two tones of your magic separated themselves and each transformed into remarkable serpents. They entwined themselves and slithered upwards as if bound by an invisible rod. Once they reached their apex, two brilliant wings erupted from the top. Revealing, before your amazed eyes, the symbol of [the caduceus](https://img1.cgtrader.com/items/2162347/2d414e9f97/caduceus-medical-symbol-3d-print-model-3d-model-max-obj-fbx-ma-stl-blend.jpg).

It once represented the peace that Hermes brought between two snakes in mortal combat during the reign of the gods. And now, in modern misinterpretation, medicine. The meaning of this sacred symbol perfectly transformed over time to bring you and Stephen together.

You watched as the caduceus dissipated before your eyes in a puff of white and black smoke. Then glanced down to see underneath your hands, the skin of your heart spaces started to glow. You each could feel the ever present beating of your beautiful, brilliant hearts.

_Completely open to yourself, each other, and the world._

You slowly removed your hands from each other’s body. The ritual was complete.

But unwilling to be physically disconnected from him for a single second, you flung yourself into his arms. The two of you became a tangled, beautiful mess of lips on skin, hands in hair, arms around bodies, and souls forever bound. 

The scientists in each of you feeling completely at peace. Now having the physical evidence that your love was, indeed, timeless.

How you loved to love Stephen. How you loved to be loved by him. 

Breaking away from the fervent pace of your kisses, Stephen managed to slip in a single sentence before resuming his adoration of you.

“It’s always been you.”

Yes. 

_Finally me. Finally me. Finally me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Graciously tweaked the modern and older versions of the [Hippocratic Oath](https://www.medicinenet.com/script/main/art.asp?articlekey=20909) to write our incantations :)


	9. Offering of the Light

As Stephen Strange kissed you fervently in the library of Kamar-Taj, he was utterly amazed by the events that brought you two here. Never a spiritual nor religious person, he thanked God, Goddess, Spirit, and anyone who would listen that he got the privilege of loving you.

_ If only he’d seen the goosebumps that mysteriously appeared on the arm of the God of Mischief. _

The great truth that Stephen learned was that he didn’t know shit about the inner workings of the Universe. Yet, he’d never been so grateful to be completely and utterly wrong. 

In the midst of celebrating your divinely sanctioned union, the warning bells above you tolled. You broke apart mid-kiss as Stephen looked up gravely. He looked like he was trying to see into the future through the weighted air above you.

“Hong Kong,” he breathed.

You nodded in understanding.

It was time.

You opened the portal from the library to the Hong Kong Sanctum. Stepping out, you saw Kaecilius and a few of the Zealots ready to face off Wong.

“Wong, I assume there’s no use in me trying to convince you that this eventually will come to pass?” Kaecilius asked with a haughty tone.

“Not at all.”

Wong readied himself for battle with the Wand of Watoomb. In turn, Kaecilius summoned a space shard and leaned forward ready to pounce.

“Very well. Like the rest, you will die trying to protect—”

But his threat was cut off when you and Stephen walked behind Wong. The three of you stood together ready for a fight. 

Considering that you’ve kicked the asses of everyone one of his Zealots, individually or as a group, you liked your odds of winning. Kaecilius’ eyes started darting around. He seemed to think the same.

“Back down, Kaecilius. There’s no stopping us,” you warned.

“Lying isn’t a good look on you,” he sneered.

“Oh, but it suits your ugly face  _ very _ well.”

“I never lied to you. I only shielded you from certain information.”

“It’s still a lie of omission.”

“I did it to protect you.”

“Like your mentor before you?”

Upon the mention of the Ancient One, Kaecilius’ lip upturned in a snarl. Like you, he knew that his odds weren’t good if he were to fight all three of you at once. So he decided to revert to the one weapon he did have in an attempt to weaken you before the inevitable fight.

“What are you expecting out of this? To defend the earth like heroes then live happily ever after? This is no fairytale after all. You know that he’ll leave you again. He always leaves.”

Stephen’s body stiffened as his breath hitched. On instinct, you threw your arm in front of him protectively. Delighted by your reactions, Kaecilius continued to stress the pain point.

“He’ll never be good enough for you. The only reality that he cares about protecting is his own.”

Stephen lurched forward ready to eviscerate Kaecilius. But you held him back. You hated that he felt like he had to attack Kaecilius for his words. Because you knew that he had nothing to prove.

Kaecilius was truly a master manipulator. He was right that he never lied to you. Instead, he was incredibly skilled at using the truth, and different people’s versions of the truth, to stress their greatest insecurities and exploit their desires.

You stared into his eyes with a look that screamed danger.

“You don’t get to control my experience anymore.”

With those fateful words, you lunged to attack him. Stephen and Wong took on the rest of the Zealots. You skillfully wielded your shields against Kaecilius’ space shards; protecting your body with as much devotion as you would always protect the earth. 

He tried to stab your neck. You threw up your shield to block him.

He lunged forward again. You emitted an energy pulse that sent him across the room.

Kaecilius jumped to his feet with the grace of a panther. He let out a low growl and took two steps forward to pounce on you once again.

But then he realized...he didn’t have to fight  _ you _ . Instead, his eyes darted to where Stephen was successfully overcoming another Zealot. You saw the same deadly look in his eyes that he had before killing the Ancient One.

Knowing exactly what his plan was, you threw your body across the room to protect Stephen. He turned around in the last few seconds to see your body flying through the air. Still airborne, you frantically cast a protective shield in front of both of you.

You successfully blocked Kaecilius’ space shard from stabbing either of you. But the impact of his weapon against your shield sent you and Stephen tumbling like mere bowling pins across the Sanctum. Your bodies landed in a helpless heap on the other side of the room.

While disappointed that neither of you was mortally injured, Kaecilius knew that he didn’t  _ need _ you to be. You wouldn’t be weakened for long. He had to act fast. 

Like he did in London, Kaecilius summoned a great explosion and eviscerated the Hong Kong Sanctum. Once again, you and Stephen went flying through the rubble. The Cloak of Levitation yanked him out of the way from a falling beam.

Protected from the impact of his blast, Kaecilius got to work. With the earth’s final pillar of mystical defense down, he quickly manipulated his dark magic to open a portal. Wong leaped to his feet to try to stop him. But Kaecilius cast him to the ground again with a wave of his hand.

Still dizzy from the impact, you tried to stand up. Fortunately for you, you didn’t have to do it alone. Stephen bent next to you and helped you to your feet.

“S-Stephen, no. He wasn’t supposed to...we were supposed to…”

“I know, but we have one shot left.”

“But we’ve never even used...how are we supposed to...we don’t…”

But your broken thoughts were interrupted when you saw what was coming through Kaecilius’ portal. 

The light around the gateway pulsated between a bright purple and brilliant green. The inner canvas darkened to a black that could consume you whole. Then you saw a pair of demonic eyes flicker in the darkness.

As Dormammu ominously emerged through the gateway, you and Stephen stared at each other with wide eyes. 

He was right. You had one shot left. One final, completely experimental, we-pray-that-this-fucking-works, hail mary. And you had to take it.

You each placed your hands in front of you to summon energy from the Duality Dimension. Suddenly, the ground beneath you shook and the wind started howling with a great roar. Kaecilius started looking all around him in a panic; trying to come up with an explanation. Wong’s eyes widened in disbelief.

_ Were you really doing what he thought you were? _

The feeling of this power was unlike any magic that you wielded before. It was completely overwhelming. Your chest felt like it couldn’t decide if it wanted to explode into a million pieces across the Universe or collapse in on itself in an inescapable black hole. 

You gritted your teeth as you tried to control the power surging through you. Glancing at Stephen, you could see that he was feeling the same. It was taking every ounce of focus for both of you to not get ripped to shreds.

He looked up at you and saw the fear flicker behind your eyes.

“We have to surrender!” he shouted.

“What?! Are you crazy?”

“No to him! Surrender to the energy!”

His words felt completely contradictory to what was happening. Gain control by losing control? It didn’t make any sense. And when it came to Stephen Strange, everything always made sense.

It had to.

And because of that very fact, you did exactly as he said.

You surrendered to the energy.   
You surrendered to your trust in him.   
You surrendered yourself as a protector of reality.

You relaxed your shoulders and opened your chest to allow the power to surge through you even deeper. You took a deep breath before seeing bright white light emerge between Stephen’s shaking hands. Then, silken black tendrils appeared in yours. 

Kaecilius whipped his head to confirm that he saw everything correctly. His eyes blew wide open and nostrils flared.

“No. You, you can’t possibly be...”

“Soulbound,” Wong finished for him in a whisper.

You directed each of your energies next to the gateway where Dormammu was seeping through. Stephen’s white light twisted and mingled with your black tendrils. The magic was both completely combined but distinctly separate.

Your joint powers opened a new gateway next to Dormammu. The demon snarled at the sight of it. He was barely to Earth before his prison appeared before him.

He wasn’t going without taking something along with him.

Dormammu narrowed his eyes as he looked at Kaecilius. Kaecilius looked around at the rest of the Zealots, then returned his gaze to his master in terror. 

Finally, someone was following through on their promise to him. 

Collecting on his debt, Dormammu summoned Kaecilius and the Zealots to join him as part of the One. Right before your eyes, they turned into dark shadows of their human selves. The only light was the symbol of the dark dimension etched in red between their eyes.

Dormammu absorbed them with ease; grateful for a last meal before his final sentence.

Like a vacuum, the gateway to the Duality Dimension sucked the demon from his home. He shrieked a cry of anguish as he was cast out. The sound shook everything around you as it reverberated across the universe.

Then, in a great flash of blinding light, the gateway closed.

Trapping Dormammu to an eternity in harmonious balance with the light.

You and Stephen took a few shaky steps to regain your balance. You panted as you tried to recover from the overwhelming power that just channeled through you.

Then you walked next to him and collapsed into each other. The only thing holding you up was the body of the other. You wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him closer to you.

“We did it,” you breathed out. 

Your breath felt like salvation against his cheek. He nodded; still unable to speak with words. But drew you closer into an embrace.

“You know that he was wrong about you. You are more than enough for me. You have—”

“Always been worth my time,” he said. Both finishing your sentence and affirming the same to you.

You nodded into his shoulder and placed a tender kiss on his neck. Withdrawing from his embrace, you took his hands in yours and looked into his eyes.

But this delicate moment was interrupted when the ground, once again, started to shake beneath your feet. The tremors started softly, but quickly escalated in intensity.

You looked around then looked at Stephen to ask for answers. But he was just as surprised as you. You defeated Dormammu. You locked away the demon for all eternity. You risked your lives  _ multiple times _ to do it.

_ What could the Universe possibly want from you now? _

“The Duality Dimension,” Wong answered. “It needs a binary offering to stay in balance.”

You and Stephen turned your heads to him. In the relief of your victory, you almost forgot about the sorcerer. Stephen asked to clarify if his assumption was correct.

“So, you’re saying—”

“It needs an offering of the light. Without it, the Duality Dimension will remain unbalanced. And it’s instability will continue to impact Earth.”

You tightened your hands around Stephen’s.

_ No, no. This couldn’t be happening. You won already. Why couldn’t the universe just let your win be a win? _

Before you could even discuss it with him, Stephen offered his solution.

“I’ll go,” he said gravely.

“What? What are you talking about?”

“I have to go. I can’t let you be trapped for eternity. Not after all that I’ve done to you.”

You yanked your hands from his grasp and threw them in the air in frustration. He looked at you with a mixture of hurt and surprise.

“Are you kidding me right now? There you go leaving me again!” you yelled.

“No, I’m trying to  _ save _ you!”

“I don’t need saving! Don’t let Kaecilius be right. Don’t leave me  _ again. _ ”

Stephen took a half step back and tilted his head at you. His face was completely covered in disgust.

“You left first!” he attacked.

“Are we  _ seriously _ having this discussion right now?! No, I didn’t leave you. You abandoned me, you abandoned our friendship, loooong before I left New York.”

You threw your hands into your hair and started pacing. Stephen looked down at the trembling earth. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and looked back at you.

“I can’t, I can’t make up for the past. But I’m ready to do what it takes now. I’m trying to do right by you. Why won’t you let me?”

“You’re trying to save  _ yourself _ . You’re trying to escape your guilt. This isn’t about me. This is a decision you’re making for  _ you _ . Don’t take sacrifice and mask it as love.”

You walked back over to him to narrow the distance between you. Your heart raced in rhythm with the ground shaking between your feet. You placed your hands around his face and looked into his eyes.

“You  _ bound _ yourself to me, Stephen Strange. We are doing this  _ together. _ ”

He placed one of his hands over yours and nodded. Life would never tire of teaching him new lessons. And he would never tire of receiving them from you.

“You’re right,” he said.

“I know.”

Then the two of you summoned power from the Duality Dimension for the second time that day. But for this summoning, you only had to open your energetic fields to receive it. 

Your bodies glowed in a hot white light as you surrendered to your eternal fate. You and Stephen Strange completely committed yourselves to the unknown, and each other, once again. 


	10. Unknown Fate, Unbreakable Bond

Transporting to the Duality Dimension was both overwhelming and underwhelming. 

The energy completely consumed your physical senses. You could feel molecules dance along your skin. The ringing in your ears grew so loud that you couldn’t hear it anymore. Once the glow of your light disappeared, the darkness around you intensified so deeply you could almost make out shapes of light amidst the void.

Yet, in the seeming blink of an eye, you were there.

_The Duality Dimension._

Scanning your environment, you were in what appeared to be a desert oasis. You could feel the soft sands shift to-and-fro beneath your boots. Nearby was a serene pool of water garnished in light vegetation. 

The gentle movement at the edge of the water glistened in the light of the golden sun above you. The brilliant rays boldly burst through the sky. Your skin welcomed the comfort of its warmth. 

Yet, when you turned your head to look behind you, a tender moon hung amongst the stars. It’s soft glow shone against the blackness of the sky like a mother leading her children through the darkness.

When you outstretched your arm, the world in front of you rippled like a living mirage. The physical certainty of your realm only existed in close proximity to your body. But when you took a step forward, it moved with you.

Stephen observed your new home through narrow eyes. You noticed that his cloak was no longer perched on his shoulders. Perhaps it stayed behind knowing this destiny was his and not its own.

Turning his head, Stephen looked at you quizzically. But when he saw reality shutter upon contact with your outstretched hand, his eyes grew wide and he drew a sharp inhale. 

Cautiously, he extended his arm towards you. His hand moved through the air with the weight of his great, unanswered question. Upon near contact with your shoulder, he sharply retracted his hand and looked into your eyes.

“Go ahead,” you coaxed.

He nodded and placed his hand firmly on your shoulder. Then let out a heavy sigh of relief.

_Yes, you were still real._

You snaked your hands around his waist to draw him closer to you. Even though his breathing was shallow, you could see how he tried to pace his inhales. You certainly couldn’t deny the rapid thumping of your own heart.

“Well, we’re not dead,” you said.

“If we were, I don’t know if we’d know it. Honestly, I don’t know what we even _are._ ”

Then, like a godsend, you heard a familiar voice in the distance.

“You’re both everything _and_ nothing.”

You and Stephen whipped around to see the Ancient One standing a few steps behind you. Her hands were clasped behind her back as she gently smiled. The moon hung low behind her back and looked like it was resting on her shoulder.

“But how? You’re... _dead_?” Stephen asked, furrowing his brow.

“It’s good to see you too,” she chuckled. She walked closer so she could easily hold a conversation. “Existence works... _differently_ here.”

You tilted your head and raised an eyebrow.

“Here in the Duality Dimension, I can be both dead and alive. Call me the cat.”

You and Stephen stared at each other; mirroring the confusion on each other’s faces. Looking back at the Ancient One, you asked, “Well, we’re here. What are we supposed to do now?”

“Ah, yes. I’m here to tell you that you two might have overcorrected by _just a touch_.”

“Overcorrected?” Stephen asked skeptically.

The Ancient One brought her hands in front of her with her palms up. 

“Yes, the Duality Dimension requires a dual offering to remain in balance. It absorbed Dormammu and his followers as part of the One.” She closed her left hand into a fist. Then raised her right hand a little bit higher. “Therefore, it needed an offering of the light to balance his darkness.”

She closed her right hand into a fist to match the left. 

“The Duality Dimension does not care about volume. It is strictly binary. One equals one no matter the size.” She leveled her hands again with open palms.

You narrowed your eyes and cocked your head to the side. “So you’re saying that by bringing _both_ of us here, we made the Dimension unstable... _again_.”

“Precisely.”

The Ancient One placed her hands behind her back again. You raised your arms in defeat with a groan. The air rippled at your fingertips.

“Are you serious right now? Is this some kind of cosmic joke?! We can’t ever seem to get this right!”

You closed your eyes and started rocking back and forth on your feet. Your fingers tangled in your hair; practically ready to yank it out in pure frustration. 

_Maybe that’s how the Ancient One got her look._

Stephen walked over and placed his arm around your shoulders. He squeezed your arm, but maybe a little tighter than he probably intended. He kissed your head before turning to continue the conversation.

“We both came here because we had to. We’re soulbound. We followed everything to the letter. How are we supposed to choose which one of us has to stay?”

“Who says it has to be one of _you_?” the Ancient One asked with a raise of her eyebrow.

“You did. You just said that,” you said, jutting your hand out to emphasize each word.

The Ancient One smiled. You reminded her of another gifted student of hers.

“I said that the Dimension requires one _offering_ of light. You were the one who assumed it had to be a person.”

You and Stephen turned to look at each other.

“B-but what, what do we have to offer?” you asked him.

“I don’t know.”

He gently shook his head. But before you could struggle for too long, the Ancient One tilted her head to gesture to Stephen. 

“You already said it yourself.”

You watched Stephen as he tried to solve the riddle. Creasing your forehead, you asked, “I take it you never get a straight answer from her?”

“It’s not really part of her teaching style.”

“Still better than mine.” You rolled your eyes.

You and Stephen took a few deep breaths. Taking your hands in his, he looked into your eyes as if they held the answers to every mystery of the multiverse. You returned his search with an unwavering gaze. Not knowing that you were, in fact, giving him everything he needed in that moment. 

“Soulbound,” he whispered under his breath.

He gently turned away from you to offer his answer to the Ancient One.

“Our bond. We can offer that,” he asserted.

“Yes, indeed. Your bond may span across space, bend with time, and weave throughout the multiverse. But it cannot _break_ ...even if it sheds a few strands along the way. The light of your bond will be enough to keep Dormammu here. _And_ keep the Duality Dimension in balance.”

You drew Stephen closer to you as your heart started racing. His eyes lit up as he wrapped his hands around your face. You placed a hand over his to accept his touch.

“Do you want this?” he asked.

You smiled and nodded. “Yes, it’s always been you.”

_At last. At last. At last._

There was a solution where you could have it all. Dormammu was imprisoned. Kaecilius got exactly what he asked for. You and Stephen got to live on your earth _together._

With your brilliant, beautiful hearts beating in sync, you each took a step back to summon your magic. Without any effort, you cast silken black threads into a cluster in front of you. Stephen conjured an orb of burning white light. 

You strode forward to close the gap between you. Your tendrils carefully wrapped themselves around his light. They beautifully held it, without grasping to contain the power. Each energy was perfectly content in its contrasted existence, without hungering for more.

Your combined magic briefly bobbed upwards in the air before plunging itself into the ground. The impact sent shock waves through the earth that almost made you lose your balance.

Then, in a single glorious instance, your seed of magic erupted from below. The sudden force cast a gust of wind that sent you into the embrace of the plush sands. Your eyes widened as a mighty trunk of white light shot up from the ground. It’s branches eagerly multiplied to spread themselves across the dually lit sky. 

When the foundation was complete, the branches adorned themselves in velvet black leaves. They sprinkled the sacred vegetation with the utmost care. Each leaf looked like it was stripped from the fabric of the galaxy itself.

You and Stephen stared in awe. You let out a light laugh as a few tears fell down your cheeks. You glanced down to see Stephen’s lip trembled as he watched your bond literally flourish before his eyes. He was rendered utterly speechless. 

He finally met your gaze. Then the two of you looked back at the Ancient One. She closed her eyes as a satisfied smile spread across her face. With her final blessing now imparted upon you, she slowly faded into the background of the Duality Dimension. 

As if she was never there at all.

Stephen nodded to her in thanks as she departed. Then dashed over to you and scooped you into his arms. You buried your face in his neck as you laughed, still stunned by all that you gained in this short day.

_This short life._

Without preamble, his lips reunited with yours. You tangled your fingers into his hair. Even with no space between you, you couldn’t bring him close enough to your body. Your rapid breathing was lost in a cycle of give and take; not knowing or caring if the air belonged to you or him.

Stephen kissed you with the passion that could only come from a man who finally found salvation. One with himself and one with you, you openly received all that he had to give. Losing yourself in his embrace, you finally felt safe to surrender to the lack of boundaries between your hearts.

Breaking away from your kiss, he brushed your hair out of your face and let out a sharp exhale. He took a few deep breaths to regain a thread of composure. You smiled as you took in his unrestrained joy. 

Placing your hand around the back of his neck, you drew him closer to you. Foreheads pressed together, you asked, “Are you ready to go home?”

“I already am,” he replied. Then, pulling away from you, he smiled. “But I’m definitely ready to get the hell out of _here_.”

You laughed and untangled your arms from his body. Holding his hands as leverage, you placed one more chaste kiss upon his lips.

Then, for the second time in your lives, you and Stephen Strange glowed in a hot white light as you surrendered to your eternal fate. Completely committing yourselves to the unknown, and each other, over again. 

_For your bond may span across space, time, and throughout the multiverse._

_But it will never break._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading along with me! This story was such a joy to write. I intentionally left the ending open because there truly is no end to the adventure of our existence.
> 
> If you enjoyed this story, it would mean the world to me if you could comment with your thoughts / favorite moment, scene, or a particular line. It lights me up to hear from you and fuels me to keep going.
> 
> Remember, you are worthy, you matter, and you have unique gifts to offer the world. Your relationship status does not dictate your worthiness to be loved - and, more specifically, loved in the way that _you truly want_ and deserve. Keep being your brilliant, beautiful self.
> 
> Onto the next adventure!
> 
> xo,  
> Melanie


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